


Dreams of Hope and Happiness

by Unrenowned_Writer



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Binary Frisk, Other, Past Child Abuse, Possible smut, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Ridiculously Slow Burn, Selectively Mute Frisk, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 76,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unrenowned_Writer/pseuds/Unrenowned_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a simple spring day, the song birds chirped away, the shining sun bathed suburbia in its warmth, on a lovely day like this you were getting out of this hellhole. You hated living in this city, and despite it being so early into the day, enough had happened to make you give in and run away. You gathered up everything important and got on the first bus out of town. Shortly after getting on yourself, a kid got on the bus by themselves and takes the seat next to you.</p><p>And it was about then that life threw you another unwanted curve ball. In a very short amount of time you and your new travel companion would find yourselves falling into a place straight out of a fairytale. One with monsters around every corner.</p><p>What will it take to see the sunlight again? Better yet, what will it take to survive long enough to see it again? And is getting back to the Surface really worth it in the end? Ugh! This is too much to deal with right now. And to think your bad day all started with a stupid hair cut.</p><p>Act One - Gravity Is A Harsh Mistress - Chapters 1-14<br/>Act Two - Time Heals Most Wounds - Chapters 15-??<br/> <br/><b>On Permanent Hiatus</b> </p><p>summary updated 7/2/17</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Hell Of A Rabbit Hole

Every little bump and pot-hole the city bus managed to hit shook you vigorously in your crappy plastic seat. It was somewhat late in the morning, not even eleven yet, and on a Thursday; and it seemed that every other patron on the bus had nothing better to do than peek over in your direction when they thought you weren't looking. Absently looking through the apps on your phone you ponder if it was really you that all the weirdos were gawking at or the grade-schooler that had chosen to occupy the seat next to you.

Maybe it was the sight of the two of you that made everyone curious. Some punk looking teenage girl with short choppy hair not even long enough to be seen under a beanie, and a black and red hoodie from the young men's department sitting next to this normal looking kid with a mop of brunette hair. Not to mention that you both should be in school right now, spring break doesn't start until Saturday. Another little fact that might get you more judging looks had the other passengers known, was that you've never seen this kid before. You weren't siblings taking the bus to grandma's house, you were just strangers to each other.

Slipping your phone into the stuffed backpack at your feet, you put it somewhere in the middle of the mess of clothes you packed. Really it was more like fragrantly shoved half folded clothes stuffed into a bookbag rather than packed. Zipping the largest section of the bag back up you can't help but wonder how long it will take to be reported missing. It didn't matter much, there are plenty of good reasons you left this morning, you just wanted to be a few towns over before the police could drag you back to that Hell-Hole. Both the household and your school had made it abundantly clear you were unwanted there, which was fine, you never wanted to be there in the first place.

Today had been exceptionally horrible from a very early start with a surprise hairstyle courtesy of your demon spawn of a roommate at four in the morning. You hung in there though and trudged through the day like all the other days. That is until you found out at the end of first period that you flailed an important test. A test you needed, and should have, passed in order to graduate. That was the final straw. In a blind rage you cursed out the incompetent teacher after class, earning yourself a meaningless detention in the process, then skipped school. All that and a few other things before ten o'clock in the morning.

You ran back to the house after ditching, sick and tired of everything. Planning what to do next during your impromptu gym class, you made it back quickly and without any problems. You made swift work of your packing, stuffing clothes, your wallet with some extra cash, small electronics and chargers, food, and a reusable water-bottle into your bookbag. You hadn't realized until you had gotten on the bus a little while ago that you forgot to unpack your school supplies, leaving a couple of mostly blank notebooks, pens and pencils, and a textbook in your bag. Maybe you can pawn the textbook somewhere, it was pretty new and in good shape.

Glancing to your left you can see the grade-schooler in your peripheral. A question came to your head and you wondered what they were doing on the bus. Was the kid running away too? The kid seemed really reserved, not much caring for all the strange looks they were getting. They kept rubbing at their wrists and you're certain that you keep getting peeks at discolored skin sneaking out from under the blue sleeves of their sweater. Your sympathy went out to the kid. They didn't look great, and to be alone like this at such a young age, it made your heart ache. As crappy as your life had gotten, you still wanted to lend the kid a hand even if it was something small.

Reaching back into your bag you scrounge around and pull out a chocolate chip granola bar to hand to the kid on your left. They seemed a little shocked by your offer. When they finally did accept the snack they didn't say anything. That's not to say they didn't thank you some other way though. The kid slowly nodded their head and opened their mouth to speak, it just no words came out. That was fine though, you gave them a small smile and zipped your bag, pulling it up onto your lap to get ready to get off at the next stop.

A minute later the bus pulled up to where you were getting off and opened its doors. The kid stood up as you did, but instead of letting you pass they were getting off here too. You laugh a bit to yourself and toy with the thought that maybe the kid was going to transfer to the same bus as you and head out to the same town you were. As you two stepped off the bus all the people waiting at the stop climbed on to the soon to be departing bus. A few moments later the bus pulled away leaving you and the kid alone.

This place was a terrible place to transfer buses. The stop was as bare bones as they come, with only a sign and a bench. It was about football field away from some suburban houses just across a small highway, at least there was an overpass to get across. But here's the kicker, this stop is at the foot of a creepy mountain with a whole bunch of urban legends surrounding it. Even kids in your hometown way at the other end of the state knew about this creepy ass mountain.

A month ago the transfer stop had been in a halfway decent place, somewhere in town. This may be your first time actually to run away, but you had kept tabs on bus routes in the city pretty much since you moved here. The rerouting of the bus system had been the brainchild of your oh so genius governor, who wanted to do... something. You couldn't remember what, but you were sure it was stupid. Two more years, two more years and you can vote for officials better than the privileged jackass you got now. Whatever, you were getting out of the city. Leaving behind an awful household, crappy high school, and lying city officials.

Letting out a breath of frustration you cast your attention back to the kid, who watched the bus shrink into the distance. “You running away too, short stuff?” You asked slipping your hands into your jacket pockets to keep the cool spring air off them. The mop of brown hair tensed up at your question. They shifted their weight back and forth between their feet and gave you a slow nod. “Thought so. You just going where the wind takes you? Or do you have a place in mind that you're heading to?”

The kid grew still, their face down turned and hidden behind a curtain of chocolate locks of hair, making it impossible for you to see their face. Sharp irregular inhales came from the kid and they rubbed at their face with their sleeve. They gave you a small nod. You wanted to ask them for clarification, only to find the kid bolting away from the bus stop like a bat out of hell before you can open your mouth. The kids sudden action stunned you for the briefest of moments, allowing them to get a head start. Worried for this kid's well being much more than your own right now, you chase after them.

Calling out for them did you no good. If anything, it caused the kid to pick up in speed. Groaning some you try and push yourself to run faster, all the while not tripping on or running into any of the plant life of the forest. Nothing was stopping you from turning back and going on with your own life, deal with your own problems, but you wouldn't let yourself do that. You may have just met this kid, but it was clear to you that they need help. They were running toward Mt. Ebott for heavens' sake, this kid must be at their rope's end. You knew the ghost stories, the dangers, all of that surrounding this mountain, but in this moment you worried so much more for this kid than for yourself. Your heart told you was the right thing to do.

Your thoughts get interrupted by your own stumbling foot work. The ground beneath you began to steeply elevate. A new wave of fear held your heart in a vice grip as you realized you two were now hiking up the mountain. You called out to the kid more thankfully never losing sight of them. You begged them to turn around, but they refused.

Quicken your pace thanks to a rush of fear induced adrenaline, you catch up to them at the mouth of a large cave. You scoop them up into your arms as soon as you reach them. They squirmed, sniffled, and thrashed about, but said nothing. You tried your best to shush them and get them to calm down, but to no avail. They only squirmed more. In your attempt to wrestle against them you lost your footing and found yourself falling backwards.

The fall should have been a quick trip to the rocky floor, that's what you braced yourself for. A full second later you could still feel yourself falling. A large rim of a hole passed you by and you swore your heart stopped. The midday sunlight pouring into the cave became further and further away. Panic had little time to set in, because a few seconds later your world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my first fanfiction both for this site as well as for Undertale. I love this game to bits and all the other amazing works I've seen for it made me want to write something too. I'd love to get your opinions on it throughout the chapters. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.


	2. Just Call Me Alice

Time was nonexistent while your mind resided in the inky void. Not even dreams found you in your departure from the waking world. Eventually the nothingness ended, with pain tugging you back to consciousness. At first, it was hard to pinpoint, there was just achy pains. Soon your mind focused and noted the aches to be all along your oddly arched back, as well as something pushing down on your chest. It can't be your period can it? No, it was only the tenth, right? You should be fine until the beginning of May.

You start to squirm, which proved to bring no relief to your aches, only more agony. As well as disturb whatever lay on top of you. Craning your drooped back head up, you squeeze your eyes shut hissing in pain from your sore neck. Opening one eye you spot through teary vision an ever increasingly familiar mop of brunette locks on top of you. A small groan rumbled from them to you and you breathe out a sigh of relief. You hadn't even noticed you'd been holding your breath in the first place.

You quietly ask if they're alright earning you no verbal response, though they did tense up. Carefully you wriggle out of your backpack and sit up gently moving the kid to be perpendicular with you on your lap. Having the backpack out from under you gave immediate relief, unfortunately not all the aches were gone. You ask again if they're alright, rephrasing it to ask if they are hurt at all.

Slowly, with a drooped head refusing to make eye contact with you, they shake their head. You give them a soft smile that falters upon seeing the child's shoulders violently shake with irregular breathing. Hesitantly you pull the child into your embrace, rubbing their back and hushing them. It was the same way you were comforted by loved ones when you were a kid yourself.

“It's going to be okay,” you reassure them as they leaned into you hiccuping into your shoulder. The kid shook their head again apparently not believing you. Honestly, you weren't sure you believed it yourself, but you had to keep up your hopeful facade. “No? Why's that?”

The kid leaned back still sniffling and you dropped your arms. Chewing their lip in thought the kid started to move their hands in odd ways. It wasn't hard to figure out that they speaking in sign language. What they were saying on the other hand, you had no clue. Reading the confusion on your face the kid frowned, dropping their hands to their lap.

“Hey, don't look so gloomy, sweetpea,” you coo placing a hand on their shoulder, “I got something that can help us talk.” The kid looked up at you full of curiosity as you drug your bookbag around to your side. Fishing out a red notebook with only a few pages missing you hand it to the kid along with a mechanical pencil still fully intact despite the fall. You silently pray that all your electronics you packed can be so lucky.

Once given the tools to scribe with the kid opened the notebook and scratched something into the lined paper. Flipping it around once their were done you read, “You shouldnt have fallowed me,” written at the top of the page in surprisingly neat handwriting for a little kid.

You furrow your brow and pull your lips into a tight line after reading that. “Then you would be down here by yourself,” you point out, worry lacing your voice. They gave a small nod but made no motion to write down an explanation. After what felt like an eternity of waiting for a response that just wasn't going to come with a prompt, finally you ask, “Why would you want to be here alone? Sweetheart... Why did you run away to Mt. Ebott?”

They flip the notebook back over and cautiously scribe more words onto the paper. You had a pretty good hunch as to what they were going to answer, but that didn't stop your heart from aching when you were giving the opportunity to read their response. “Im a burrden. Mommy said nobody wants me.”

You read the sentences over a few times, more tears gathering in your eyes after each read. “Oh baby, come here,” you murmur, gently pulling them back into your arms. They tense up again hiccuping more sobs into your shoulder. “That's not true. I've had a lot of mean things like that said to me too. But the people that say those things are just mean nasty people. Nasty people who live in misery and the only way they can make themselves happy is by dragging everyone down with them.”

Small arms slipped under yours, clinging to your sides. The child's body shook violently as they sobbed more heavily into your shoulder. You comb your fingers through their hair, comforting the kid as you let them cry their eyes out. “Everything's going to be alright from now on,” you softly say once they calmed down some, “We're going to get out of here and you won't have to live with mean relatives like that any more.”

They lean back out of your arms and wipe their eyes and nose with their striped blue sweater. They give a small nod to your plan before jotting down something. The kid's fourth sentence in the notebook read, “My name is Frisk.”

“Nice to meet you Frisk,” you smile to them, “You can call me Les.”

Flipping the notebook back to them, Frisk quickly wrote something new, showing you a few seconds later. “Thats a funny name for a girl. You are a girl right?” You shot the kid a halfhearted glare after reading their message.

“Yeah I'm a girl pipsqueak,” you grumble ruffling their hair, “Les is just a nickname I've been going by for a while. And you're one to talk, can't say I've ever heard anyone named 'Frisk' before.”

Frisk puffed out their cheeks and set their writing tools down to straighten their brunette locks back in place. When they were satisfied they scooped the notebook and pencil back up and wrote you something. “I was just asking because people get mad when I mess that up. I don't care thoe. You can call me a boy or a girl or neether. I like neether best.”

You nod with a smile before letting out a long sigh and lean back onto your hands. Up high above your head, afternoon sunlight poured into the cave. At least you're pretty sure its the afternoon by now. The exact time of day didn't really matter though. Your lips fall to a frown as you gaze upward, it would be impossible for you and Frisk to climb back up.

Your second option would be taking out your phone and calling for help. Calling the authorities only to have them put you and Frisk back into the “care” of your abusive family members was an extremely undesirable out come; but so was dying down here. Rooting through your backpack again you pull out your phone, thankfully still intact. Clicking the side button the screen lights up displaying that it is still Thursday, April 10th, only now it was eleven o' five, so still a bit before noon. Now that you knew the time you glance at the top of the screen and let out a groan of frustration. There was no signal down here, great. At least you now have a flashlight.

Looking back up at the skylight a childish thought crossed your mind causing you to huff out a small laugh. “Looks like we fell down some rabbit hole, huh?” voicing your thought only served to confuse the kid. Adding another line onto the paper Frisk asked you how a rabbit could make a hole this big. “ _Alice In Wonderland_ , Frisk. Alice chases after a white rabbit and falls down a hole into Wonderland. Guess that makes me Alice and you the rabbit.”

“Whats 'Alice in wunder land'?” Frisk asked by showing you the inquiry they wrote down.

“Seriously?” you question, baffled that the kid doesn't know, “It's an old book that's had a lot of movies and tv specials made based on it. First chance we get I'm either reading you the book or showing you the movie I grew up with as a kid.”

Letting a few silent moments pass between you two you're left to your thoughts of possible ways back to the surface. First thing you need to find is water in case you two are stuck down here for a few days. There are a bunch of yellow flowers around you guys, so they must be getting water somehow. The rustling of paper cut the silence and pulled your attention back to the child on your lap. Frisk had asked you what you two were going to do now.

“Well, we're going to try and find a way back up to the surface. But top priority should be finding a water source in case it takes a few days before we get back up there.” Your answer earned you a perplexed look from Frisk, who asked why water was that big of a concern. “We can go a lot longer without food than we can without water. You and I are like seventy percent water. Now come on let's start looking around.”

Frisk blinked once or twice before giving you a small nod and getting off your lap. They began looking around, their interest being caught by the flower that managed to break your fall. Honestly you thought it nothing short of a miracle that you didn't die from the fall. As Frisk inspected the flower you rolled over onto your knees in front of your backpack. You slip your new rectangular flashlight into the jacket pocket of your non-dominant hand and are able to look through your bag with greater ease. Of all the things you put in your bag, right now you are most thankful to have the water bottle and multi-tool. As you stuff the tool into the opposite pocket of your phone you hand the bottle over to Frisk.

They seem confused for a second by your offer, so you smile and explain, “You've already lost abit of water from crying, sweetpea. Drink some water to rehydrate, it will help with any headache you got too.” They give a quick nod in understanding and take the water from you.

After guzzling little over half the bottle, Frisk hands you back the metal canister with a smile as thanks. With some effort you manage to shove the water back into your giant over stuffed bag. Maybe you packed too much clothes. Not including what you had on, you had a pair of jeans, one pair of sleep pants, and three shirts, as well as socks, underwear, and a spare bra. At least you'll have cloth if you have to wrap up any wound.

A light tapping and scuffing of something against rock echoed in the room shortly after your battle with the bookbag's zipper. It had been a close fight but became victorious in the end. Putting back on the fifteen pound bag, at least, you turn to find Frisk lightly kicking at the rocky ground. Behind them was a tunnel leading further into the cave. Frisk was smiling and beckoning you over. You already fell down the rabbit's hole, might as well see where this bunny named Frisk leads you.

Chuckling to yourself over the ridiculousness of actually falling into wonderland, you make a few large strides over to Frisk. Surprisingly, light traveled down the tunnel quite a ways. It also looked like some light illuminated your way from the other side of... is that?

Stopping dead in your tracks you stood at the foot of stairs. There were only a few small steps but what really got you was the two large pillars on either side of the steps. A huge arch sat atop the pillars with a symbol carved into it that looked like it belongs in Hyrule.

These things don't belong in a cave under a mountain. There shouldn't be actual man-made architecture down here. Did you and Frisk stumble across some huge architectural find? Maybe when you and Frisk get back to the surface you can report it, then you two could be set for life. Or at least for a while.

A tiny hand slipped in to grab your hand and jarred you from your pondering. Frisk looked up smiling and tugged you to follow. You can't help but smile back, they were so cute. It pains your heart to know that they had been forced to believe such wretched lies about being a burden, by their own mother no less. On the bright side Frisk, and yourself, are away from those toxic people now.

Pulling you up the stairs and beyond the threshold of the pillars and archway. Frisk leads you to a new room of sorts. The open cavernous room was immensely darker than the last, which prompted Frisk to tighten their grip. You murmur some reassuring words to them and feel their grip slack just a tiny bit.

You note the odd spotlight shining down in the center of the room. Bright green grass and a single yellow flower basking in the light. There must be a crack in the ceiling that's letting in the sunlight for the flora. Looking passed the lone flower you spot another set of pillars with an arch on top hiding on the edge of the shadows.

Gently squeezing Frisk's hand you take the lead and guide the kid to the other side of the room. Not even taking two steps towards the door, something else stops you in your tracks. Cutting through the quiet like a knife, a childish voice rings in the room, greeting you with a friendly, “Howdy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, look its a flower! And over there's a cliff you can hang off of if you wanna, I don't know, do pull ups while you wait. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.


	3. Kill Them With Kindness

The voice, being higher pitched and child-like, you clung to the belief that maybe it was Frisk speaking. However glancing sidelong at the kid only revealed them to be just as perplexed and frightened as you. Something else was down here with you, that much was clear. And it set your nerves on edge.

You slip your dominant hand it your pocket, while you use the one still holding Frisk's hand to guide them behind you. In a low growl you reply, “Who's there?” Your question was met with a brief moment of silence before a chuckle echoed in the room. Try as you might, you couldn't see anyone else down here. The only movement in the entire was from that flower that swayed in a draft you couldn't feel.

“I'm down here, silly,” the bubbly voice called out. You kept your eyes sharp while you scanned the room again, yet still found nothing that could be talking to you. The only other thing in the room besides you and Frisk was that stupid yellow flower. “Right here!” The voice spoke out again with annoyance seeping into its tone. Oddly enough the flower bounced in the breeze when the voice spoke this time. Then, you notice the face in the flower, “'Bout time you notice me.”

Your blood chilled as the mouth of the face on the flower moved in sync with the words spoken. It was the flower speaking, but how? Flowers don't have a larynx, they can't talk. Yet there sat a flower, bathing in sunlight, speaking to you as if nothing was out of place. It laughed softly with a smirk on its face, probably getting a kick out of your dumbfounded expression. “Now that I have your attention,” It said, its smirk shifting to a friendly smile, “I'm Flowey. Flowey the flower.” Had you not been utterly confused by the sight before you, you might have chuckled at the rather unimaginative name.

“You're,” the flower stopped to think, letting its smile falter. You followed its eyes as it looked between you and Frisk, who had stepped out from behind you. The smile returned to the sunny petaled bloom and it continued, “You two are new to the Underground arn'cha?”

“The Underground?” you parrot. You felt like you were in a dream, maybe you really did fall into wonderland. You mumble out the beginning words to multiple different sentences while your mind tries to draw new lines dividing fantasy from reality, “Okay, where and what exactly is the Underground?”

The flower gave another chuckle, “As to where the Underground is, it's right here, silly.” Before you had the chance to call out the weed for its smart-ass answer it went on answering, “Golly, but on the other leaf, _what_ the Underground is... Well...” Flowey glanced away as it trailed off. Something. Something about this yellow flower gave you a bad vibe. “Maybe it will be easier to understand if I show you guys how things work down here first,” the plant chirped, “Ready? Here we go!”

The very next instant you felt something strange. It was as if an unknown force tugged at something inside of you, trying to pull this something out of your body. The sensation was extremely unusual, uncomfortable even, yet oddly enough not painful. Nevertheless you were starting to panic, causing your heart-rate to skyrocket. It felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest.

You look over to Frisk, making sure they're okay. Your eyes grow wide in disbelief upon seeing the bright red heart floating in front of their chest. Frisk looks up at you with an expression you weren't expecting to see on their features. Worry, fear, confusion, that's what you expected to see, for Frisk to mirror your emotions, yet they look only mildly baffled at most.

Their eyes shifted downward a few degrees and you followed their gaze with your own. There, floating mere centimeters in front of you was a heart of your own. It looked different than Frisk's heart. Theirs was a solid bright red; while yours, as far as you could tell, only glowed a bright red. In the center of the red glow floated your heart, looking to be dull and gray.

“See those hearts? Those are...” Flowey began to answer your unspoken question before trailing off once more. The sole flower in the room looked once more between you and Frisk. Flowey didn't let whatever addled it linger in its thoughts for long, because a split second later the flower had a smile back on its face. It quickly carried on like nothing happened, “Those hearts are your souls, the very culmination of your being!”

“You...” you sputter out, “You can't be serious. Our souls? How?”

“'How' what?” Flowey asked with a falling smile. It didn't seem all that thrilled to have you interrupt.

You furrow your brows. This flower was starting to get on your nerves, already being a smart ass and now having the gall to be annoyed at you. You and Frisk are extremely out of your element right now and your almost certain this weed isn't giving you straight answers. “How the He-... Heck did you manage to get our souls to do this?” You growl stepping in front of Frisk, putting yourself between the flower and them, “And for what purpose? What possible could you have for doing this?”

Irritation bubbled up inside you. With a swift flick of your wrist the multi-tool you slipped out of your pocket now sported a sharp blade. Once the blade locked you had it pointed directly at that dandelion. Flowey utters something you can't make out, you weren't even sure it was even speaking English now. For a brief moment the flower looked... almost hopeful. Then its feature grew sharp.

“You wanna know what the Underground is, buddy?” the weed asked, eyes narrowed at you and a smirk tugging at its mouth. In the next moment its face melted into what you could only describe as demonic. Flowey's once chipper voice grew to reflect its new features, “It's your tomb.”

A ring of white spinning bullets encircled you and Frisk. As Frisk made a small whimper of fear you cursed the plant under your breath and held the knife tighter. Flowey let out a horrible laugh causing you to grit your teeth in disgust. “Down here,” the weed continued in that vile tone, “It's kill or be killed!”

You scream back at the plant, putting emphasis on each word, “Fine by me!” Not missing a beat you charge straight for the puny flower, paying no care to the awkward bag on your back. Apparently your reckless endeavor not only caught the thing off guard, but sent it into a small panic. That's just fine, if you're going to be in a fight you were going to make the first attack.

Centimeters before you could even make contact with the ring of bullets, they disappear without a trace and all parties froze. Flowey stared wide-eyed at you more baffled than ever. The sight of fire manifesting next to the weed caught your eye causing you to instinctively take a step back. Flowey didn't take notice of the ball of fire rapidly encroaching on it until it was too late. The flame collided with the plant, uprooting and knocking it into a dark corner of the room. The vile daisy now cast aside and its attack gone, your brain is left trying to figure out the laws of nature and physics the fire broke by not scorching the plant.

“What a terrible creature, torturing such poor innocent youths...” A new, much warmer voice spoke. You continue back-peddling so that you are back with Frisk, glancing around to find the source of the new voice while you do so. In the far away archway you make out a tall figure, the large pale arms and head of the figure standing out in the shadows.

Your breathing came in heavy pants but you didn't let that stop you from keeping sharp eyes trained on the figure. It took calm deliberate steps towards you and Frisk, and you in turn tighten the grip on your weapon. “You here to pick a fight too?” you harshly bark with a sneer on your face.

Your inquiry stopped the tall figure in its tracks. With it closer to the light you could see the figure in more detail. Its bestial face wore what looked to be an expression of shock, its maw slightly agape and brow furrowed over red eyes. “Oh my!” the pale colored creature softly exclaimed holding a large furry hand to its muzzle. This new creature, something about it, about them, seemed much more genuine than the damn flower. You let yourself relax ever so slightly as they continue,“Heavens no, my child! I'm not here to fight you.”

“D-don't,” you stutter out still holding apprehension towards the situation, “don't call me that. I'm not your kid... And if you're not here to cause us more trouble, than why are you here? Where are we?”

The other party took a few more cautious steps closer, bringing themselves into the light of the room. Draped in dark violet robes adorned with an emblem on the chest the creature with a head reminiscent to that of a goat gave you a kind smile. “You are in the Ruins of the Underground, my-... young one,” the white furred goat creature answered in a kind and motherly tone, “I am Toriel, caretaker of these ruins. I come here every day to see if any has fallen down.”

You hear soft scratches behind you. Not even two seconds later Frisk bounded from behind you and up to the goat lady. Frisk held up the notebook to Toriel, who smiled at what Frisk had wrote on the page. “It's nice to meet you, Frisk,” she beamed to them. She stood back up straight, looking back toward you and offered you a kind smile as well, “And you too, Les.”

You gave a small nod to her and glance away, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. Heaving out a heavy sigh to calm your adrenaline hyped nerves, you also flip the blade of your multi-tool back into the handle. With the blade sheathed you stuff the tool into your front pants pocket. As weary as you are about pretty much anything and everything after that event with the weed, Frisk happily opened up to the tall goat lady. So that's gotta mean something, right?

“Come along,” Toriel gently requested, “I shall guide you both through the catacombs.” She turned around and took a few hesitant steps back towards the archway she came from, glancing over her shoulder to make sure you followed. You shuffled your feet, just as hesitantly as Toriel did, until Frisk came back to you to grab your hand. They tugged you along, urging you to move faster. You had little choice but to comply, but to be honest you didn't mind to much. You shot Frisk a small smile and they in turn beamed back at you. You caught in the fringe of your vision Toriel looking back again wearing a warm expression on her features.

It wasn't until you all entered the next room, one with purple coating it wall to wall, that you decided to speak up once more. “So, um, Ms. Toriel,” you called out to grab her attention. When she hummed in acknowledgment along with a quick glance over her shoulder, you continued, “This place is called the Underground? What... What is this place? There are pillars and stairs that had to have been carved and crafted. How did all this get down here? And why are you here?”

“My, what an inquisitive mind you have, child,” Toriel cut in giggling at you brief pause. A moment later her giggling died off. In a somber tone she asked a question of her own, “Do you know of the war that took place many years ago between our kinds? Humans and Monsters?”

“N-no,” you blinked, stunned by the sharp turn the conversation took, “Until today I've been lead to believe monsters and all that were just fairytales and make-believe.”

“Were quite real, I assure you,” she softly replied beginning to ascend one of the staircases in the room. You and Frisk followed Toriel up the flight of stairs as she went on, “Long ago, both monsters and humans lived on the surface. Then war eventually broke out between our kinds. The humans managed to push us back and trapped all the monsters here underground with a magical barrier.”

“I... I've never...” you couldn't find any other words to say. This is the first you've ever heard of that. It had to have happened ages ago to have a war with an entirely different species completely left out of any historic records. Exiled and then have their existence swept under the rug. How cruel. “I'm so sorry.”

You and Frisk got to the top of the landing where Toriel stood by the door. She shook her head offering you both a sad smile, “Do not apologize, young one. You are not at fault for the events of the past.” Frisk let go of your hand and went to hug Toriel's leg, giving the goat monster their own sympathy as well. You wanted to add something, to apologize again for the crimes of humans, but Toriel would have none of it. She pet Frirsk's brunette locks and put on a small but warm smile, “Now, let's not talk about such dismal topics anymore. There's something I'd like to explain to you two in the next room.”

Passing the threshold with the stone plaque above it you and Frisk follow her into the next room. With Frisk no longer holding your hand, you stuff both into your jacket pockets, one hand thumbing over your phone to tell yourself you still have it. Like the last room, the walls were all coated in the same purple color. Unlike the last room however, odd gray tiles raised from the rest of the floor rest in one of the corners of the smaller room. To the left of the left of the tiles an imposing door stood shut, and marked with the same symbol you had seen on the archways. Come to think of it, now that you could see Toriel clearly in the light, you see the emblem on her robe matched the door as well.

The goat lady, not noticing your pondering, explained that the puzzle of the room. She also mentioned that the rest of the ruins, were full of varying puzzles, acting as door keys and diversions. Toriel proceeded to step on a few of the tiles, pressing each one down with an audible click, before flipping a switch on the wall to the right of the door. With the switch flipped the large doors swung open.

Toriel requested that you; adjust to the sight of them, which Frisk took as an opportunity to the other tiles and step on them. You on the other hand, took the opportunity to ask about that symbol you'd seen repeating through the ruins thus far. “Hey uh, Ms. Toriel?” you ask grabbing her attention, “what's that emblem on your clothes? I've noticed it on a few other things.”

“Oh this?” she asked looking down at her indigo robes, “It's called the Delta Rune. It's the emblem of the kingdom of monsters.”

You hum in thought, glancing over to Frisk who messed with the switch on the wall. It did nothing. “It looks pretty cool,” you state absentmindedly, “It reminds me of a project I did in history class last year.”

“Oh? And what was that?” Toriel asked, your comment apparently catching her notice. She motioned for you two to follow her into the next room. Allowing you to explain as you walk. You told her that the project was to create a shield. One that represented yourself by using heraldic symbols. And how all the animals, colors, symbols, and even how it was broken up, all meant a vast number of different things. You also informed her that all the students that brought their shields to class on time got to participate in the jousting tournament.

“Jousting?” Toriel parroted while standing in front of second bridge in the room waiting for Frisk to run and flip the switch on the wall. You heard the water flowing in the channels dividing the room when Toriel took a small pause between her questions. It was nice to know there was indeed water down here. “What's that?”

“It's an old sport from the Medieval ages,” you answer watching Frisk happily back to you and Toriel. “It was pretty dangerous, two guys head-to-toe in armor get on horses and charge at each other with lances, trying to knock the other guy off. We did it in the hallway with rolling chairs pushed by classmates and foam pool noodles.”

“That sounds... interesting,” the goat murmured crossing the bridge. You and Frisk followed her, Frisk splitting off to flip the other switch on the wall. “How far into your schooling are you and Frisk?”

“I'm... Um, well... Yeah... And Frisk is... um,” You look over to the happy grade schooler who was returning to Toriel and yourself. “I never actually asked Frisk that, or even how old they are... Frisk, sweetpea, how old are you?” Frisk answered practically instantly holding out all five digits on one hand and three on their other. “Half as old as me, huh?” you laugh, “So what grade are you in?” Frisk retracted one hand and gave you the peace sign as their second answer. “Alright, smalls is eight and in second grade. And I'm...” you trail off when you try to give your answer.

“Young one?” Toriel gently called to you, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I guess. It's just... School is...” you start to answer only to trail off again, crossing your arms in frustration. You hesitate a moment but collect yourself enough to give a more complete reply, “School isn't the only reason I'm here to begin with, but it was kinda the straw to break the camel's back.”

“Oh dear!” the goat lady gasped, “Child, what happened?”

You hug your arms closer to you, gritting your teeth at the answer to her question. It's a little bizarre to think all of that happened just earlier today. It still very easily made your blood boil. “There was a mix up of sorts...” you mutter through clenched teeth, “I had a really important test for a class a few weeks ago. There was a sub that day, and despite being in class that day and even talking to the substitute, I was counted as absent for that class. I took that test like everyone else but after I turned it in, it got lost. I got a big fat zero and because I was marked as an unexcused absence for the day of the test, my teacher refused to let me retake it.”

Bitter hate poisoned your thoughts. It was a miracle you weren't swear like a sailor right now, like you did when you confronted your teacher this morning. “I could 'ave,” you growl more to yourself than the others listening, “Without passing that test it's impossible to get my grade to where it needed to be for me to graduate at the end of next month. I was going to go stay with my uncle and his family right after graduation, but I can't if...! I just wanted...! to not be here anymore...”

There was a small tugging on the bottom of your jacket, snapping your attention back to the world around you. Whipping your gaze downward towards the tugging you you find a teary eyed Frisk. Looking up at you through a blurring vision, Frisk's mouth hung slightly agape but no words came. All your bitter feelings melt away to ones of worry upon seeing Frisk. “Oh, Frisk, I-” you cut off. Kneeling down you scoop the upset child into your arms, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad I got to meet you today, sweetpea.”

A few short moments of stillness and quiet tick by before you pull away from Frisk while softly petting their head. They whip away the small tears still hiding in the corners of their eyes. You caught sight of their wrist as Frisk bent it to rid themselves of the lingering tears in their eyes. Darkly discolored skin shown from out of the sleeve. You tried to hide your worry of that for now behind a kind smile. Smoothing their hair down one last time before standing up, you find Toriel wearing a smile of her own. A warm and loving smile, like a parent watching their children. It caused an odd mix of emotions to stir in you upon seeing Toriel wearing it, ones of happiness and warmth alongside a sense of unease and bitterness.

She ushered you to the next room and you push aside these mixed feelings, or attempt to anyway. The next room may have been the smallest one yet. It was largely empty with only what looked to be a training dummy off to the side. Toriel stated that simply by being humans down here in the Underground that monsters may attack you. After hearing about the war between humans and monsters you can't really bring yourself to be upset over the possibility. You'd just have to watch out for Frisk and keep them out of trouble.

“Should either of you get into a fight with any of the monsters down here, strike up a friendly conversation with them,” Toriel further explained.

“You mean just talk to them? 'kay...” you said muttering the end, wondering how you could even begin to talk your way out of a fight with upset monsters. The goat lady eased some of your worries saying that all you needed to do was stall for time. She would be the one to resolve the conflict for you and Frisk. “Oh, 'kay...” you mutter still a little worried about monsters harming you or more importantly, Frisk.

“Why don't you two take turns practicing talking to the dummy over here?” Toriel kindly asked before going to stand in front of the other door way. You let Frisk be first one up. In all honesty you felt awkward about talking to a dummy in front of others. So you weren't all that eager to go first.

You watch Frisk pat the stitches on the dummy's head and let your mind wander. It struck you as odd how Toriel was using this training dummy, setting it up to be talked to rather than fought. Though looking at the dummy as Frisk leaned up to its head and whispered to it, the thing didn't seem constructed all that well. It had stuffing sticking out of its stitches and... Wait, did Frisk actually talk to it?

You blink a few times and watch the second grader run over to Toriel with a big smile on their face. Looks like it was your turn now. Hesitantly, you step up to the inanimate object and stare down at it. “Um... hi...” you greet it. There wasn't much you had in mind to say to the thing. “How... How are you?”

The awkward silence that fell over the room as you tried to think of things to say, bugged the hell out of you. The irritation brought bitter thoughts to the forefront of your mind, and you ball your hands inside the pockets of your coat. What the hell were you even doing? Talking to a stupid inanimate object. How did your life get so out of whack? A shiver of rage crawled down your spine. You knew the answer. All the crap that has happened to you over the past several months could be linked back to one event. One person.

The dummy no longer stood before you. It was the scum that single handedly ruined your life. Vile hatred boiled your blood from the mental image. There was a buzzing in your ears muffling any words Toriel might be saying to you. That didn't matter though, you bare your teeth at the scum in an sneer and slip your hand out of your pocket, reeling it back. In one swift motion your fist flies right for the face of that smug asshole.

White cotton flings upward a second later, blocking most of your vision. Your breathing becomes choppy but the buzz in your ears dissipates enough for you to make out Toriel's protests. “Dear child! No, no, training dummies are for talking not fighting.” You didn't look at her, you didn't have to, to know she was disappointed in you. Her tone said it all. “You were doing so well, what came over you?”

“I,” you huff out. With a short but heavy sigh you try to collect your thoughts so that you can string together an answer. You didn't want to tell her what was going through your mind, _you_ didn't completely understand it. Your emotions had been haywire all day, a fact that only caused you further frustration. You decide to tell a part of the problem, if you're lucky it will be enough to wane her worries, “I just, for a moment I saw a bully. Just some dirtbag that's finally out of my life.”

You stay rooted to that spot, staring at the toppled dummy with a hollow expression. Its head lay detached beside its body, looking up at you with a loose button eye. You almost felt bad for the dummy, good thing it's not actually alive. A large warm hand came to rest on your shoulder while you stood there. The hand was accompanied by a voice just as warm, “It's okay, young on. I will not pry, but know I am here and will listen.”

You let out another sigh, one much softer than the last, “I'll try and keep that in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this was a long chapter. Thank you all for reading this, now we're finally starting get into the story! I'd love to get you guys' opinions on it thus far. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.


	4. A Test Of Independence

You let out a heavy sigh and lean your head against the pillar behind you. Toriel asked you and Frisk to stay put at the end of this ridiculously long corridor while she ran some errands. However, before she left, Toriel gave you her spare cell phone to keep you two updated while she's away. One way or another, the Underground had their own cell services. You don't exactly plan on sticking around down here for very long, though if you end up staying here more than a month maybe you should look into getting your phone set up to whatever's down here. You can always just get a new one when you get back above ground.

Rolling the phone around in your palm, you examine it while Frisk writes. The phone was ancient compared to the one in your pocket, it was a large pill like phone with a short antenna sticking out the back. It also had maybe five other buttons that weren't the number pad and a small calculator like screen on it. This thing had one purpose and one purpose only, making calls, and it was the one thing your smart phone can't do anymore.

Frisk slid the notebook between you two and pointed to one of the new words they wrote before signing you the same word. In between the updates that came in at roughly five minutes increments, you asked Frisk to teach you sign language. They were more than happy to teach you and having another way to communicate would be nice. In turn, you were helping Frisk with their spelling and grammar. They didn't need a lot of help with that, but you helped correct what few mistakes they did make.

You curriculum was pretty basic stuff. The alphabet, simple words, and simple sentences, those kinds of things. Frisk eagerly jotted down more and more words into the notebook before signing them to you, as well as quizzing you on old ones. Slowly but surely you were getting the hang of it, but you'll definitely need a few more lessons with Frisk before anything really sticks.

Frisk was in the middle of thinking up more words to write when Toriel called you up again. While giving you her status update it sounded as if a dog managed to kidnap her cell. Chuckling at the bizarre predicament Toriel found herself in, you hang up. Turning your attention back to the second grader scribbling away at the paper, a stray inquiry crosses your mind. One that pulls your smiling face down to into an expression of mild confusion. You were fairly certain you had seen Frisk whispering to the dummy. Not only that, but several times they had their mouth slightly open looking as if they wanted to say something. Was Frisk actually capable of speaking?

“Hey Frisk, I wanna ask you something,” you state to grab their attention. They respond quickly, looking up at you with eyes filled with curiosity. You give them a gently smile and ask your question, “Can you actually speak?” Hearing your question they immediately tense, casting their gaze down to avoid yours. You curse yourself for being so blunt and try to get them to relax, “Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad or anything, and I'm not going to make you talk if you don't wanna. I just thought I saw you whispering to the dummy and got curious.”

Frisk flipped the notebook to a new page before writing down something. A second later they showed you the paper, allowing you to read what they said, “I only ever talked to daddy. Mom didn't like to hear me.”

“Did...” you became hesitant to ask your next line of questions, but you felt like you had to try, “Frisk, don't feel like you have to answer this next question, okay? If you feel uncomfortable, just tell me, I promise I won't be mad or anything,” They give you a small nod, their eyes full of worry and tears, “Did your mom give you those scratches and bruises on your arms?”

Sniffling and tugging at their sleeves, Frisk gave you another nod. Leaning over to the poor kid you caress the side of their head, gently shushing them. “It's okay, sweetpea. She can't hurt you anymore.” Frisk nuzzles into the palm of your hand, their tears dripping onto you. That doesn't matter though, you just smile softly to them and let them cry. “I have a few hurtful family member myself.”

Frisk, still nuzzling your hand looked up to your face with their brow knitted questioningly. You continue to smile at them and use your free hand to remove your beanie from your head, letting the short choppy mess see the light of... the light again. “So at around three or four in the morning. Today. My rotten thirteen year old cousin super glues green glitter, green pipe cleaners, googly eyes, and plastic snakes into my hair. You know, to make me look like Medusa. Then while I was still asleep, they took pictures of me, I didn't find that out until later after they had been sent around to everyone in middle school and high school. Anyway, I wake up hearing them snickering, and quickly find out that the super glue had seeped down and attached my head to the pillow. So, I had to cut my hair. I got my Swiss Army knife to sever my head from the pillow, then scissors to cut off the rest.”

Frisk frowned throughout your story. At one point they had slide the notebook to the side and scooted closer to you to wrap their arms around you. You smile softly and pet their head, but your expression doesn't stay pleasant for long as you continue, “So when my mother's sister, whom I've been staying with since the beginning of the year, finally got up this morning, she's pissed. At me. Not her mons- ...um, devil child. Me,” you narrow your eyes upon bringing up your mother's sister. You refused to call that woman your aunt, she never once had been deserving of that name. “Blamed me for ruining one of her pillow cases, then threw a boot at me. Hit my back pretty hard, I think there's a bruise.”

Frisk hugged you tighter and you draped your arms around them. A small smile returned to your face from the child's kindness. You run your fingers through Frisk's hair and hum. “You and I have some lousy blood relatives, people who hurt us emotionally and physically. But I'll stick with you, 'kay? Even when we get back to the surface. I'll look out for you, and if anyone tries to hurt you I'll knock 'em into next week.”

The kid nuzzled their face into your shoulder and the air around you grew quiet. There was an occasional hiccup from Frisk and you'd rubbed their back to help calm them, but other than that the room was silent and still. Time passed by as you two stayed sitting up against the pillar, though you couldn't be sure how much of it had passed. You thought Frisk might have fallen asleep in your arms, but when the phone started to ring again they weren't all that groggy when they leaned away from you.

The phone buzzed out a generic ring tone telling you Toriel, or at least her phone, was calling you. Bringing it to your ear, you're only able to make out panting on the other end . Actually no, you could faintly make out Toriel's shouting in the background. The call only lasted a few seconds before the dog hung up, somehow. Regardless, the call sent you into a small fit of giggles.

Frisk glanced up at you with their head tilted ever so slightly, wordlessly asking what you were laughing at. “I think Ms. Toriel isn't getting her phone back any time soon. So how's about we stretch our legs a bit and see what's up ahead?”

Frisk pulled their lips into a tight line, and had trouble keeping your gaze. You guessed they were apprehensive about disobeying Toriel by leaving the room. Puffing out your cheeks in minor annoyance, you began to think up a compromise of sorts. “Alright squirt,” you start with a pat on their head, “How about we go until we get stuck? I'll call Toriel at the first sign of trouble, provided she get her phone back by then, and we'll back track to here. And if Toriel gets mad, I'll tell her the truth, it was all my idea.”

They gave you a hesitant nod before worming out of your arms to get back to their feet. Getting back to your own feet you pick up your clunky backpack and sling it over your shoulder. Meanwhile Frisk picks up their new-to-them notebook and pencil. Next chance you get you should reorganize your bookbag to maybe make it lighter. Whatever, the clunky baggage didn't matter much, and you both make your way to the room's exit. Everything will be fine, so long as there aren't any more secret paths hidden in a field of spikes.

“Don't sweat it, Frisk,” you smile to them while crossing the threshold, “This is a better test of independence anyway.”

Stepping out of the corridor you were met with two options of travel. One option was the immediate doorway to your left, the other a hallway turning out of your field of vision on your right. Also in the the room you found yourselves in, hanging out in the corner was a little frog like creature just kinda chillin'.

Frisk ran up to the pale frog signing it a hello. The little frog, actually for a frog it was pretty freaking big, either way, it didn't understand what Frisk was saying. Frisk kept at it however, continuing to sign things to the frog like, “cute” and “nice” among other things you couldn't understand either. The poor thing seemed to pick up that Frisk was complimenting them and became flustered.

“Alright you little flirt, cool it with the compliments before all the blood ends up in the poor thing's face,” you laugh pulling Frisk back a few steps from the froggy. Shifting your attention to the frog your laughter and smile became a little more forced and nervous. You wondered for a moment if it wouldn't be able to understand you either. “Um, hi, we're... um... new here.”

The pale frog creature switched its gaze to you and croaked. “You two are humans then?” it asked in a raspy voice. The question tied your stomach in knots, you really didn't want this to escalate to a fight. You didn't see much of a point in lying so reluctantly, you nod. “Thought so,” it croaked a response.

Seconds passed by and nothing happened, then finally you ask, “Are... you going to fight us?”

“No,” it said simply, “but I will give you some advice on the matter, humans. If you act a certain way or fight until a monster is almost defeated, they may not want to fight anymore. So please humans, show some mercy.”

You gave it a slow nod. The last part and how it had pleaded it, that struck a cord with you. From their point of view humans were the aggressors, the ones that hurt them. The monsters were more than likely terrified of you and Frisk. That made sense. You didn't want to hurt anyone, not really. Though you hated to admit it, even to yourself, but you were a little curious about that 'almost defeated' part and how close to it a monster would have to be before they backed off.

“We'll keep that in mind,” you murmur to the pale frog monster, “thanks.” The frog monster now took a turn to give you a nod in appreciation of your thanks. Right after that Frisk took your hand in theirs and tugged you to the doorway left of the frog.

The room was tiny, and oddly over elegant for what was in the center. Green vines grew up the back wall with two shallow pools of crystal clear water on either side of you. In the center on a pedestal quite possibly carved from marble or quartz, and encircled in a ring of red leaves, sat a simple bowl of brightly colored candy. A note stuck to the front with two words on it; take one. Frisk accepted the offer and snatched a single bright red candy from the bowl. You, on the other hand, took two candies wrapped in the color normally representing your favorite flavor.

Frisk pouted at you while you were busy stuffing the candies into the jacket pocket opposite of your phone. You shrugged at the pouting kid, giggling you tell them you're just a rebellious teenager. Frisk didn't stop making that childishly disappointed look though, in fact they stuck their tongue out at you in disapproval. You return the look, before making a stupid face earning you a small silent laugh from them.

After this little pit stop of sorts, you and Frisk venture down the other path leading deeper into the monster ruins. It didn't take long before a monster came up to Frisk and picked a fight. Fight being used in the loosest sense of the word. Another little frog like monster hopped up to Frisk and summoned their soul form their body. Just like that flower did. It set you on edge seeing their soul out of their body, but Frisk waved it off like it was nothing.

Frisk said, or rather signed to you, it was fine, before they turned and started signing more nice things to this frog monster. Just like the other one it couldn't understand Frisk, but was flattered anyway. The little frog looked away from Frisk, not able to hold eye contact and reluctantly sent what appeared to be a small swarm of flies at Frisk. Who in turn, dodged the flies quite easily. After that the fight just kinda stopped. Frisk made it apparent they weren't going to throw any punches and the pale frog just carried on its way. This day was chock full of strange sights, at least Frisk's soul no longer floated outside of their body.

When Frisk ran back to you after their... encounter, they smiled and signed that they were fine. You couldn't help but kneel down and look them over to make sure they weren't hiding any new scrapes or bruises. It didn't look like Frisk got hit by the swarm of flies, but you wanted to be certain.

Leaning back from Frisk you see them flip open the notebook they had under their arm and write something down. “I'm fine. The froggit didn't hurt me. They didn't want to fite in the 1st place.” Scanning over their words as best you can, you mutter out loud the one word you've never heard before in your life. Frisk nodded and wrote something else down. “Yep. Those monsters are froggits. Thats what the last one said any way.” You must have missed the pale frog speaking with or to Frisk. But they were okay, and that's all that matters.

Despite still being somewhat on edge from worry, you both press on. You kept your eyes peeled for any other monsters that mustered up the nerve to try and confront you. Which thankfully, there weren't any near by. Being so focused on scanning for potential attackers you were caught completely off guard when the floor gave out beneath your feet.

You yelped and screamed while descending, but it was short lived. Falling face first into what felt like a massive pile of crunchy autumn leaves, you hear Frisk at your side squeak and quietly giggling while leaves continued to rustle around. With a bit of effort you prop yourself up, sinking more into the leaves in the process. “And here I thought we already hit rock bottom,” you grumble more to yourself than the child playing in the leaves.

Getting to your knees you get a proper look at Frisk and your mild irritation melts away. They flashed you a bright smile, one crinkling their eyes and nose in amusement and joy. Frisk a word to you and it took you minute before you figured it out; again. You puffed out a laugh and reached over to brush the leaves out of Frisk's brunette locks, “Really, smalls? Haven't we proven gravity still exists enough times today?” Frisk replied with a vigorous shake of their head. Signing with a smile of your own, you gave them your blessing. “Alright shorty, knock yourself out.”

Frisk eagerly jumped to their feet and ran up one of the two narrow staircases. A second later they were back up their in front of the hole and jumped down into the pile of leaves. Frisk repeated this a few times all while you sat back against the wall holding the notebook and pencil so they wouldn't hurt themselves in their plummet back into the leaves.

The excited joy and quiet fit of giggles coming from the kid melted your heart in a cozy warmth. Your heart was going to be nothing but a puddle of goo by the end of the week because of this kid. But you couldn't care less about that. Right now, in this moment, Frisk was happy. And for the first time in months, so were you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to post this a bit later. I'm trying to keep a good stock of chapters to post weekly, but last Thursday I went to go see the new Star Wars Movie with my dad, and then had to work over the weekend. I might either change the upload day to Mondays, from now on, or wait till next Thursday to post the next chapter. I'm not sure yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.


	5. Following The White Goat Lady

A warm compact heater of a body curled up to you on your left as you sat propped up against the headboard of the cozy bed. Their breaths came out soft and peaceful as they explored the realm of dreams. You envied their swift departure into sleep. Your disquiet thoughts had barred you from the entrance to dreamland or even relaxing.

You had found your way to Toriel's house maybe thirty minutes ago, at almost half past noon. She had been on her way to get you both when you met up at the large leafless tree in front of her home. She showed you inside where the sweet scent of baked good filled the house, her call earlier asking both yours and Frisk's preferences of butterscotch or cinnamon had been for the pie she had baking. It didn't matter much, because Frisk and you had opposing preferences and both had been in the pie. Toriel also showed you to a guest room, where you and Frisk currently reside. She apologized for only having the one twin bed, but you shrugged it off saying it was fine.

A burning scent floated to your nostrils and Toriel left you both in front of the guest room to attend to the pie. Frisk went around looking at everything in the room while you set your backpack down by the bed and sat down. Nothing holding their interest for very long, Frisk came over to you, putting the notebook back in your bag and kicking off their shoes before crawling up onto the bed. You slipped off your flimsy flat soled shoes as well and sat leaning up against the back. After all that running around and solving puzzles Frisk had grown tired, which they denied. You told them an old fairytale putting your own spin on it, to help them fall asleep, which they did a couple of minutes ago.

With Frisk safe and sound napping next to you, you no longer needed to fret over them. Those puzzles may have caused you discomfort when dealing with spikes barricading the next room, but those threats had passed. No, there were several things planting seeds of worry in your mind, but the puzzles were not among them. Now that they're sleeping the worries from earlier could set in, now that you can afford to have selfish thoughts again. Worry about your own well being.

Earlier, while traversing the ruins, a group of monsters had picked another fight. By that point Frisk had been in a few encounters and could stop them quickly. You two had even cheered up a ghost laying on the ground feeling bad for themselves. You didn't need to fuss over them, Frisk could smile their way out of any fight. You had seen it over and over. That fight with the group, Frisk was not the one the monsters picked a fight with.

Frisk was in another room, patronizing the spider's bake sale you saw a sign for. You, and you alone, had gotten locked into a fight with a short cyclops, an angry carrot, and a huge bug. The heart pulled from your chest looked vastly different than when the weed had done the same earlier in the day. Frisk's heart, their soul, had been the same each time they got in a fight. A bright red heart, each and every time. Yours had only a thick hazy glow of red around it the first time. Now, your second time seeing your heart shaped soul out of your body, it no longer hid in a red mist. Your heart was dull. Both in color and in light. It had no scratches or cracks, but the heart painted in a medium gray emitted only a faint light.

Absentmindedly you run your fingers gently through Frisk's hair, while bringing your other hand to rest over your chest. That fight had gone poorly, you ended up taking quite a few hits from the carrot in particular. You had managed to intimidate the cyclops and bug to back off. The giant carrot however, that thing didn't respond much to verbal threats. You became fed up with it quickly, and in the heat of the moment you lashed out, physically. With a low sweeping kick it toppled over, its sinister expression finally changed to show one of fear.

Part of you wanted to continue kicking the jerk. One for every hit it landed on you. It seemed fair, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. You balled your hands into fists and you shifted your weight to pull one leg back. The annoying produce shut its eyes tight waiting for pain. But nothing came. You had chosen to turn and walk away from the stupid root vegetable, and go back to waiting for Frisk to come back from the bake sale.

Even then, you wondered why your heart had changed color in between encounters. Was it something unique to plant monsters? Able to change the color of their human opponent's heart? Maybe it was just something about Flowey. Maybe that red glow was that weed's doing.

You thought about crawling out of bed to ask Toriel about it, but that could wind up being you asking for help opening a can of worms from another can of worms. Toriel was nice, and Frisk seemed all too happy to be around the goat lady. But for you all that niceness, that kind motherly way she treated you, it bugged the ever living crap out of you. You tried to hide your frustration and other upset emotions as much as possible around her. You knew she was being nice, trying to help, but for reasons you don't like to linger on all that niceness from her upset you. Not only that, but your unjustified feelings of resentment only served to make you feel guilty for having them to begin with. All of this cycling around in a whirlpool of negativity with you caught in the center.

You sniffle some and lift your hand from your chest to your eyes to smear away the beginnings of tears in them. Toriel had welcomed you into her home, she wanted the both of you to stay here, with her. Frisk would be safe here, in a loving and stable home, you wanted them to stay here with her. Why did you have to go and promise to stick together? Why did Toriel have to insist on you both staying here?

You cared a lot for Frisk. You wanted them to be safe and loved, something Toriel can do and you don't think you can. You could love and protect Frisk to the best of your abilities, but you just couldn't guarantee their safety like Toriel could. You had places to go, family that cares for you and will actually miss you, and caring for an eight year old while on the long road to get to them... So many things can go wrong.

With another smearing of unshed tears you cautiously crawl out of bed so as not to wake Frisk from their nap. Your sock clad feet quietly pad across the room allowing you to slip out without a sound. Gently clicking the door shut behind you you spy Toriel making her way over to the bedroom with a plate in each hand. Her mild surprise melts to a warm smile upon seeing you. A new wave of bitter frustration and sorrow crashes over you, and you're forced to shut your eyes tight to fight back the tears.

The plates are set down on one of the hallway tables with the soft clangs of ceramic. You hear her quickly step closer to you, worrying, “My child, what's wrong!?”

Snapping your eyes open you glare at the goat monster, taking a step back and snarling at her while doing so. “Don't,” you hiss, low and soaked in venom. New tears spilled out from the corners of your eyes. The pained look on Toriel's face sent needles of regret to your heart. Taking in a small breath you calm yourself enough to speak without so much venom in your word. “Don't call me that. You're not my mom, and you never are going to be. So stop calling me your kid. It... I hate it.” Your voice was hardly audible at the end.

Not wanting to escalate on your part in front of the room where Frisk was napping, you storm off passed Toriel. Being a small house you quickly found yourself in the living-room-slash-dining-room. Mere seconds later you hear Toriel's heavy foot falls behind you. She followed you, no doubt fretting over you. You wished she wouldn't. “Young one,” the goat quietly called out to you, “Les, I'm sorry to have-”

“Don't apologize,” you cut in through grit teeth. You whip away the snot and tears, too upset by everything to be disgusted by it. “Just... just tell me how to leave and I'll be out of your hair.”

“Leave!?” Toriel gasped, opposed to the notion, “But Les, you and Frisk-”

“I wasn't talking about Frisk,” you cut her off again grinding your teeth flat in the process, “I want Frisk to stay here with you, just as much as you do. The kid's a sweetheart, I really do care for them, but I can hardly take care of myself let alone an eight year old. I said I'd stick with them, and I want to, but it'd just be better for everyone if I left. I _can't_ stay here. I won't. But I don't want to drag Frisk away because of that.”

Turning around to face her, you see Toriel's brows knitted together. She looked disappointed. She said nothing more, only retreated out of the living room. Curious and annoyed by her lack of verbal response you follow her. Out of the room, down the stairs, and into a into a long hallway. You walked down the dimly lit hallway, the floor chilled your feet even through your socks. You spot Toriel standing there, her back turned to you. “You wish to know how to return 'home,' do you not?” her question was rhetorical, she already knew your answer, “Ahead of us lies the end of the ruins. A One-way exit to the rest of the Underground. I'm going to destroy it.” Shocked speechless by her words you weren't able to voice any kind of protest, allowing her to continue, “No one will ever be able to leave again. Now be a good child and go back upstairs with Frisk.”

Once she had given her order, Toriel hurried down the hallway. The shock and confusion that silenced you now served to fuel your drive and anger. You match the goat's brisk pace at best, but that did not stop you from following her. Suddenly Toriel stopped.“Every human that falls down here meets the same fate,” she stated still not looking back to you, “I have seen it again and again. They come. They leave. They die. You naive child... If you leave the Ruins... They... Asgore... Will kill you. I am only protecting you, do you understand?” There was a moment of pause after her question. She waited for you to answer, but you gave none. “Go to your room. Go back and be with Frisk. Do not try and stop me.”

Toriel continued down the path, picking back up her brisk pace. Her warning of death had caught you off guard. It made sense given the forgotten history Toriel told you about earlier. That didn't matter though, not to you, not right now. Despite the danger something told you to press onward. You still had loved ones back on the surface, people that would miss you.

Shaking out of your thoughts in a new wave of anger, you chase after the white goat. Rounding the corner you find Toriel standing in front of two large doors. On the door you see the top half of the Delta Rune over the back her head. Not turning to face you, Toriel spoke once more, her tone stern, “You want to leave so badly? Hmph, you are just like the others. There is only one solution to this. Prove to me you are strong enough to survive.”

When she finally turned around to face you, there was the increasingly familiar tug on the soul in your chest. Out for the world to see once more, you take note that the red haze was back, surrounding your heart in a crimson glow. However this was not the time to dwell on your metachromatic heart soul. Right now you had to stop Toriel from destroying your only way home.

Your hand hovers over your pocket, unsure to draw your pitiful weapon. Meager as the tool might be, you didn't really want to use it against Toriel, did you? As angry and bitter as you might be could you really muster up the intent to hurt her? You wanted to lash out, to lose control and vent off all your bottled up pain. But no good could possibly come of it.

Your hands ball into fists and you meet Toriel's stern gaze with an icy one of your own. “Strong enough to survive?” you parrot her words in a growl, “That's exactly what I've been doing for the past three and a half months. Surviving. Each and every miserable day of my life.”

“That's not what I meant, child,” Toriel retorts sending little balls of fire towards you. Without that clunky backpack you could move much more freely and manage to dodge the goat's attacks. “Please, Les. Go back upstairs, I know what's best for you.”

Those words hit you harder than any measly attack of hers, or any other monster, ever could. Hate and loathing knotted in the pit of your stomach, boiling in a pool of rage. You were sure your teeth were going to be flat by the end of the day. But a sore jaw was just the price you were going to have to pay in order to keep any semblance of control over your actions. Your response to her was low and unnervingly calm, “Bull. Shit.”

The vulgar word stunned her, but you couldn't be bothered to care while you brewed in your own rage. “You know what's best for me?” you ask in a breath of ice, “Just like Child Protection Services 'knew what's best' by placing me in the care of my mother's sister. And how said woman 'knew what's best' for me these past few months. My life has been made a living Hell by people who think of me as nothing more than a hopeless child.” your rant had Toriel at a loss for words. Good, because you had more to say. You take your left hand and grab the hem of your shirt, quickly raising it to expose the ugly discolored stripe just under your ribs. You hated this burn mark, you hated showing it, how you got it, and that after over a decade later it was still as prominent as ever. 

“You know what's best?!” You scream, “Like my so called aunt?! She did this to me! She took a hot curling iron, a hot strip of metal to the skin of a four year old as a punishment! She threw a boot at me this morning because her kid put superglue in my hair and ruined her pillow case. She withheld _food_ from me because the school called her about me. Because I was _crying_ in class... Grieving... for my dead mother.”

After throwing all that out into the open you felt your heart hurt. Not from an attack, no you saw through your blur of tears Toriel was crying herself. Your heart ached from a renewed wave of sorrow and loss. Anger was still there, keeping your hands balled and teeth clenched, but venting had made it easy for it to be overtaken.

“Child... Les... I'm... I'm sorry, I...” Toriel whispered out, trying to find the right words to say, “You truly would just be unhappy trapped down here, wouldn't you? I'm nothing but a constant reminder of what you lost not long ago. My expectations... My loneliness... My fear... For you, young one... I will put them aside.”

The red haze around your soul disperses moments before your gray heart sinks back into your chest. Tears continue to slip down your face, but you feel numb. You hated admitting what happened to her. You felt like, if you didn't say it, if you didn't tell people she died, then she wouldn't actually be gone. You could cling to a false belief that she was still there somewhere.

Your knees were as stable as jello. You wanted to just fall to the ground and cry. Hiccuping and wiping away the cascade of grieving tears, you only bother to look up at Toriel when she calls out to someone behind you. Whipping around to get a look at your new company, you spot Frisk peering in on you and Toriel, worry written all over their face. 

When they ran up towards you after being spotted, you noticed they were carrying your bookbag on their back and shoes in their hand. Frisk wobbled with the weight of the backpack but refused to let it stop them from reaching you. Small arms wrap around your middle and all you can think to ask was why were they carrying your heavy backpack. Sniffling and hugging you tighter, Frisk reluctantly took one arm away to point to their ear.

They had heard you and Toriel arguing upstairs. They heard you tell Toriel you wanted to leave, without them. New tears fell from your no doubt red eyes and you run your fingers through their hair. “Frisk, sweetpea,” you hoarsely call out, “You'd be so much safer here if you stayed with Toriel. Even if we got back to the surface I can't guarantee some lousy Child Protection agent or cop wouldn't take you or me away.”

“Don't go,” That's what you heard Frisk hiccup to you. The first thing you hear them say, is a plea, begging you not to leave them. You close your eyes tight and try your damnedest to choke back your own sobs. “Promised. Don't leave me.”

“If you two truly wish to leave the ruins,” Toriel softly spoke up casting away her own tears, “I will not stop you. However, when you leave... Please do not come back.”

“Toriel...” you wanted to say something more, to apologize for the actions you let your grief do, but the words die in your throat.

“I hope you both understand.” She took a few tentative steps closer to you and Frisk. She watched you in particular, searching for any sign of you pushing her away. She found none and knelt down to wrap you and Frisk in her warm embrace. You stood still, conflicting wants trying to sway your actions. You wanted to squirm, to be away from her and her motherly affection. And at the same time, you wanted to hug her back, to eagerly accept her love and warm hug.

She let go a moment later, leaving you and Frisk in front of the door. Toriel only looked back once, a sad smile on her muzzle and tears in the corners of her eyes. She didn't deserve this. She deserved a kid like Frisk. Not some off balance teenager mad at the world and grieving for her late mother.

Gingerly prying Frisk off your midsection, you also slip the bookbag off their shoulders. “You sure you want to leave?” you quietly ask, dropping the bag to the ground by your feet, “You can stay here with Toriel. It's probably going to be dangerous out there.” Frisk took your hand in their free one and squeezed it. You mustered up the strength to give them a weak smile and caress the side of their head. “You're right. That charm of yours is more dangerous than any of those monsters. You can probably charm the crap out of any of them, even that Asgore who-ever.”

Frisk smiled brightly and handed you your shoes. After slipping them on you scoop up your backpack, and sling it over one shoulder. With a deep breath you offer your hand to Frisk who holds it tight as you go to the door and exit it. On the other side was a long stretch of hallway, and as you walked down it something in your gut made you nervous.

It wasn't until you got to the end of the hallway that you found the most likely cause of your nervousness. In the next room, shrouded in mostly shadows, there was a single golden petaled flower bathing in a spotlight. “Golly. You really are stupid,” the weed said in a casual tone. Its mouth was in a smirk and eyes narrowed on you and Frisk. “And here I was thinking that you actually knew how things work down here. But no, despite all your anger and hatred towards her, you were able to spare the old hag.”

“If you want me to kill something so bad, how's about I start with you, you ugly weed.” you growl hugging Frisk to your side while your other hand hovers over your pocket. Pulling out the multi-tool, you flip the blade out and take a step in front of Frisk to make sure that the weed was focusing on you, though Frisk made a small whine in protest. “It would be pretty easy too, since you're just a flower. Just gotta cut that scrawny little stem of yours, then you'll die. Slowly.”

That awful little flower seemed phased by your death threat, at least for a moment. Then, all too soon, that smug look was plastered back on its pale face. “Idiot. I'm not a normal flower. But that's besides the point. Eventually one of you will give up, kill someone, maybe even trying to save the other. It's kill or be killed. The sooner you understand that the better.”

Flowey's face warped once more, growing into this huge face and laughing at you. Its face was disturbing, but it was its laugh that was truly haunting. It ran chills down your spine. You were about to take another step closer to the weed when it retreated into the ground. Growling a curse to the flower, you put the blade away and back into your pocket. You made a mental note to kick and uproot any and all yellow flowers you see in the future.

Turning back to Frisk you crouch down to be more on their level. They walked up to you cautiously, eyes glued to where the weed problem had been a moment ago. You pet their head and smile weakly, which they return shortly after. You stand back up and offer your hand, giving them a reassuring squeeze when they take it in theirs. You lead them to the far side of the room, and with one last deep breath, you leave the ruins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters in and we're finally out of the Ruins! Wow. So, I got teary writing this. Then I cried more typing this. I even made my friend get teary eye when she read this! I'm a little curious how many other people pushed into tears from reading this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.


	6. April Snow Falls Bring Misery And Complaints

There were a few things you noticed immediately after stepping out of the Ruins with Frisk. First, it was lighter, enough to bug your eyes from the dramatic change. Second, beyond the ruins the temperature dropped and cooler breezes ghost across your skin. And third, there was a distinct crunching sound under your feet.

Eyes adjusting to the new light after a few blinks, you take in the sights around you. Impossibly tall trees on either side of you, a long path stretching out in front of you, and everything blanketed in a sheet of white snow. This was... well it was something. Of all the things that you would have guessed lay beyond the Ruins, a snowy forest was not high on your list.

It was the middle of April, there shouldn't be a foot of snow on the ground. You didn't care if this was underground. There shouldn't be snow like this in April when your not close to either of the poles. How was there even snow down here to begin with?

You heaved out a sigh of frustration and gave up on trying to figure out this place for now. All you need to know is that it's chilly and despite Frisk's amusement, they looked a little cold. You didn't exactly pack a bunch of winter clothes, they wouldn't have exactly fit either, but you had something. Dropping the bag to the ground, you usher Frisk over to you and unzip the bag.

“This stupid clunky bag's been bugging me all day. Least now I can kill two birds with one stone,” you laugh pulling out one of your shirts. Frisk must not have heard that expression before, because they looked horrified by the idea. You gave them a small confused smile and uncrumple the shirt. “It's just a saying, Frisk. Taking care of two things at once. In this case, bundling you up and making this backpack not so clunky.”

After rooting through the clothes you brought, you bundle Frisk up first. Two tee-shirts on over their light sweater, the shirts looking like tunics on little Frisk. And after taking out everything in your jacket pockets you hand that over to Frisk as well. The black and red hoodie was kind of big on you, and on Frisk it went to their knees. They were warm and happy, even if they were reluctant to accept your jacket.

You told them it was fine, that it wasn't terribly cold out and cooler temperatures don't bother you too much. All of which was true, but you still wanted to bundle up some if you're out in this for who knows how long. There wasn't much left for you to use, but you'd be fine for now. You put last tee you had on over your striped long sleeved shirt, and struggle against the door to slip on two more pair of socks into your feet so they don't get frostbitten in your stupid flimsy converse. Pulling down your beanie to cover your ears you also pull out your pair of sleep pants. The thin fabric was akin to fabrics for scarves, so you fold them in half and tie it in a loose knot around your neck. Actually, like this it looked and felt a lot like any scarf, just a little short and broad at one end.

This fashion crime did the trick for your backpack. It was no longer puffed up and bulky, looking like it was ready to explode. It was still heavy though. Now the only clothes left in it were a pair of jeans, two pairs of socks, your underwear, and an extra bra. You also put the candies you got from the Ruins in your backpack, leaving your smart phone in your front pants pocket, and your tool in the other front pocket. Frisk wanted to hold on to the phone Toriel had given you, and while you had mixed feelings about it, you let the kid hold onto it.

Now bundled up and ready to go, you let Frisk run a few yards ahead of you as you waltz down the snowy path. Chuckling to yourself while following the eager child, you begin to hum a tune. You thought it would leave your brain for the year with the winter holidays past, but all this snow brought it back to the forefront of your mind. Giving in to the annoying tune, you start to quietly sing aloud the lyrics as you were walking in a winter wonderland.

Frisk ran back to you after you sang the first few verses, and you had stopped all together when they reached you. They took your hand in theirs and tugged you along. They tried to urge you onward, to move faster. The little ball of energy got a laugh from you, “Frisk it's _walking_ in a winter wonderland, not run down the snowy path as fast as you can.”

They just smiled and tugged more, wanting to get a move on to... wherever you were going. Home eventually, back to the surface, but you can't help but wonder how to get back. Toriel mentioned at one point that humans trapped the monsters down here with some kind of magic barrier. Maybe because you and Frisk are humans you could pass through it no problem?

A loud snap jerked your focus back to your immediate surroundings. Turning on your heel to find the source of the noise, you spot a small broken branch imbedded deeper into the snow at the break. Your heart rate skyrocketed at the sight. Someone or something was following you, and you had a sneaking suspicion that it breaking the branch was no accident. Whatever was out there was messing with you.

You held Frisk's shoulder keeping them close as you scoured for the things whereabouts. Frisk, for reasons you couldn't even begin to comprehend, seemed not to have a care in the world. They were more curious and confused by you, than fearful of what was out there. You'd have time to roll your eyes at the weird kid later, right now you had to deal with this shadowy stalker. You pull out your tool and flip out the attachment that had gone from least used to most in the span of a day. A few hours even.

Eyes rescanning your surroundings you call out to the thing, “Who's there?” seconds ticked by in what felt like an eternity, but you got no response. Then again, you may have just not been able to hear a response over your shallow breaths and rapid heart-rate. After making a weak grumble of frustration, you try again, “I know something's out there. It you're going to fight us, then you might as well come out and show yourself.”

The sound of crumbling snow echoed behind you, back in the direction you and Frisk were originally heading. It got closer and closer till it sounded like it was only a few feet behind you. Taking a shaky breath begin to shift your weight to turn around only to have every muscle in your body lock in fear when you heard it finally speak. It's tone was low practically menacingly so and shot ice through your veins, “Human. This isn't how you greet a new pal. Turn around and shake my hand.”

You regain some control over your muscles and slowly, cautiously turn around with Frisk to face whatever was behind you. When your eyes fell on the creature they grew wide. Standing in front of you was a skeleton, one possessing the ability to grin without any lips. Out of every possible thing that could have been standing behind you, you really wished it wasn't the Grim Reaper. You double back, letting a slew of profanities slip past your lips. You fell on your ass, unfortunately taking Frisk down with you as you cringe away from Death.

“Whoa, buddy, little early to already be falling for me don'tcha think?” The skeleton chuckled in a much more pleasant tone. It didn't sound nearly so low, it was still baritone but not dark. Still shaking like a leaf, you chance another look at your stalker. You note a few more things about the skeleton, like that their on the short side, and that along with their casual attire the skeleton seemed pretty relaxed and non-threatening. “You two okay? Didn't mean to rattle you that badly.”

“W-who... Y-you're not the Grim Reaper?” You manage to ask with more of a stutter than you like.

“The grim what now?” the skeleton blinked. The bone of its skull actually shifted and closed over its eye sockets somehow. And those have pinpricks of white in them. You'd think that after a talking flower and a goat lady your brain would just start going with it, but no, it still questioned every little thing. The pinpricks in the skeleton's sockets shifted looking away from you and Frisk, “I don't know who that is, but it's not me.”

“T-then who are you?” you ask with that irritating stutter still in your voice. Having gotten the words out however, brought back some of your confidence. “And what the Hell were you doing following us like that?”

With a laggard shrug and crooked grin, the skeleton answered, “I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton. I'm a sentry out here in Snowdin Forest.”

Narrowing your eyes at the bag of bones you pull Frisk closer to you. And at the same time your grip tightens around your weapon, though you keep that hand down for now. Sans may not know what the grim reaper is, but that doesn't rule out that he's not going to be death for you and Frisk, “So are you gonna try and kill us here or take us to whoever Asgore is?”

“Neither,” Sans answered with a small chuckle, “I mean, I'm supposed to be on watch for humans right now. But... y'know... I don't really care about capturing anybody.” You shot him a skeptical look but he still wore that relaxed smile on his skeletal face. Sans offered you a hand to help you and Frisk off the snow covered ground. You hesitated to takes his hand, and in doing so Frisk reached up first accepting his help. A loud disgusting sound cut through the calm of the forest and left you arguably the most confused you'd been all day. Sans pulled up a giggling Frisk, who stood a couple inches shorter than the skeleton. “The old whoopie cushion in the hand trick. It's always funny.”

Shaking off your confusion, you left yourself huff out a few small laughs before getting back to your feet. “Okay, undead jokester,” you start while simultaneously dusting the snow off your butt, “Now that you got your laugh at our expense, maybe you could help us get back home.”

“Yeah maybe, but before that though, I gotta tell ya,” Sans shifted his... slipper clad feet, and cast a glance down the path you and Frisk were walking, “While _I_ don't really care about capturing anybody, my brother does. He's a human-hunting fanatic.”

“Oh joy!” you grumble massaging your temples.

“Hey pal. Sarcasm isn't funny.” Sans' tone dropped, closer to when he first spoke, but not quite. You were quickly growing to dislike that specific tone of his. It sent goosebumps crawling up your back. You mumble an apology casting your eyes away. When you do chance a look at him your see his eye sockets look narrower and the pinprick in them smaller.

“Anyway,” the skeleton sentry grumbled before letting his gaze dull, “My brother will be here any minute now to check up on me. Come on, I know where you two can hide while he's here.”

Sans gestured with his skull for you to follow him, taking a couple of slow steps down the path and towards some structure in the distance. Frisk frolicked as you went, bounding up to the front of the line. You on the other hand hung back a bit and off to the side so both your traveling companions were in your peripheral.

Still in your dominant hand was your multi-tool with the blade out. You had a feeling, your nerves and paranoia telling you to keep your weapon drawn in case of betrayal. You had another feeling though, your gut telling you to put the tool away. That's what it was, a tool, a device to aid. You've had this thing for years and never used it as a threat, it had always been a tool. Then that ugly weed showed up in your life and used your paranoia to forge it into an unwanted weapon.

Well enough with that. You flip the blade back into the handle and stuff it into your pocket. After doing so, you could have swore you saw Sans relax more. Made sense, you'd probably be tense too if someone you just met trailed a bit behind with a knife out. Okay scratch that, you'd be sweating bullets. Part of it was his own damn fault though, a skeleton of all things shouldn't go sneaking up on humans.

As your small party gets closer to some kind of bridge with large tree trunk like things sticking up around it, you check your phone for the time. It displayed one, forty-two in the afternoon. After this odd threat of being captured by Sans' brother passed, you and Frisk should rest for a minute and eat. You two never got a chance to eat in the Ruins, and you were willing to bet Frisk was getting hungry.

Crossing the bridge with the oddly constructed gate, Sans ushered Frisk to hide behind an ugly and weirdly shaped lamp. It was too short to be a floor lamp, and too large to be a table lamp. Not to mention it was stout, but the perfect size for Frisk to hide behind. You however, Sans ushered you to hide behind his sentry station. It was disgusting to say the least.

Empty containers of relish, mustard and ketchup littered the ground around it. Old dried stains of yellow and red dotted the wood. What on earth could he be doing to warrant this volume of condiments, and why keep them around like that? Whatever, all you had to do was stay hidden here and be careful not to move, lest you knock over some of the containers. You kept your fingers crossed that the skeleton's brother wouldn't stick around too long.

A distant sound of snow crunching under footfalls grew closer to the forest clearing. Daring to peek out from the station, you saw Frisk hiding behind the lamp. They were angled in such a way that whoever coming in from the opposite direction wouldn't be able to see them. Sans had the best spot, he could easily see Frisk behind the lamp, you peeking out from his station, and the approaching person down the path.

Finally making it into your field of vision, you get a look at who you can only assume to be Sans' brother, made sense considering this guy was also a skeleton. He was a lot taller than Sans, probably a couple inches taller than you. The brother also dressed radically different than Sans did, wearing some kind of heroic costume. Those short shorts the guy was wearing reminded you of superman.

The taller skeleton was in a huff, and started shouting at the smaller after Sans' casual greeting, “You know what's 'sup' brother! It's been eight days and you still haven't. Recalibrated. Your. Puzzles! You just hang around outside your station! What are you even doing!?”

Sans shrugged, “Staring at this lamp.” Son of a bitch. Your stomach dropped, the bastard was ratting out Frisk. “It's really cool. Do you wanna look?”

You were about to just grab Frisk and bolt when the taller shouted, stamping his booted foot in the snow. “No!” he shouted his answer, “I don't have time for that! What if a human comes through here?! I want to be ready! I will be the one! I must be the one! I will capture a human!” His anger shifted to pride, puffing out his chest and striking a haughtily heroic pose. He had good timing too, a breeze came and fluttered the orange cloth around his neck like a cape while standing heroically. “Then, I, The Great Papyrus, will get all the things I utterly deserve!”

The skeleton you now knew to be Papyrus listed off a couple of the things he felt he deserve. You kinda tuned out most of it, but you did catch him mentioning something about joining the royal guard. Sans cut in, suggesting that the lamp might help him, and thankfully like the first time, Papyrus didn't want to hear it. 

“Sans! You are _not_ helping!” Papyrus scolded stamping his foot again, “You lazybones! All you do is sit and boondoggle! You get lazier and lazier every day!”

“Hey, take it easy,” came the relaxed reply of Sans, “I've gotten a _ton_ of work done today. A skele- _ton_.” Every fiber of your being is telling you to grab one of those empty bottles and chuck it at Sans' skull for that stupid pun. Shaking your head, you bit back a groan, not wanting to be heard. Looking over to Frisk, you saw they were in a similar predicament, however Frisk was trying not to laugh. Papyrus called out his brother's name in much the way a parent does while disciplining their child. Sans didn't mind though, in fact he looked happy. “Come on. You're smiling.”

“I am and I hate it,” Papyrus huffed trying to fight the smile on his face. After a moment of pause he let out a long sigh and lamented, “Why does someone as great as me have to do so much just to get some recognition.”

“Wow, sounds like you're really working yourself...” Sans said starting to chuckled, “down to the bone.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you contemplate how royally screwed you'd be if you did throw something at Sans. Is the potential loss of life worth temporarily stopping a skeleton from making a bunch of stupid puns? The answer may surprise you. If he sets up another dumb joke, you're going to do it. On the bright side, Frisk has been silently giggling away behind the lamp with Papyrus none the wiser.

After Papyrus was done with his own groaning over the stupid joke, he straightened back up to announce to Sans, “I will attend to my puzzles. As for your work? Put a little more, 'backbone' into it!” The taller skeleton proudly laughed, one that could put Skeletor to shame. He left the clearing shortly thereafter.

A few more moments passed before Sans gave you two the all-clear. Getting up off the ground you feel your jeans clinging to your shins. Apparently the snow had melted some while you were on all fours, and now the legs of your pants complement your snowy ass. Kicking off excess snow as you walk, you get back to Frisk and Sans voicing the first thing that came to mind, “So your brother's named after a plant?”

“Huh?” Sans murmured with a blink.

“Papyrus. It's a plant,” You reiterate thinking back to middle school history lessons, “Used in Ancient Egypt to make scrolls. It was like a really early version of paper. In fact that's where the word paper comes from; papyrus.”

Sans' grin grew until it looked like the Cheshire cat after eating a canary. Those white dots in his sockets looked different too, they looked like little stars in the night sky. Monsters are weird. Just going by that look, you got the impression that he was going to find some way to pester his brother with this information in some way, shape, or form. 

“Cool,” the hoodie wearing skeleton gave the short response before letting his smile fall into a more relaxed one, “Hey, I got a favor to ask you guys, hear me out, okay?”

You furrow your brow giving him a skeptical look, but say nothing. Sans did hide you and Frisk from being found by his brother, so hearing what he had to say was the least you could do. Taking your lack of protest as a sign to explain, he does so, “My brother's been kind of down lately. He's never seen a human before. And seeing you guys might just make his day.” Okay, now was the time to protest, but Sans continued before you could add your two cents, “Don't worry, he's not dangerous even if he tries to be.”

Again you try to voice some protest only to have Sans continue talking, “Thanks a million. I'll be up ahead,” he waved and started to walk away, in the wrong direction. He stops after a few steps, you assume realizing his mistake. But no, he only looks over his shoulder to add, “Nice shirt by the way.”

A little thrown off by the complement and drawing a blank trying to recall what shirt you have on, you look down at the mentioned article of clothing. Your cheeks start burning as you look down at the giant skull and crossbones slapped on the front of the tee. Of all the days to wear this stupid pirate shirt it just had to be the day you meet an actual living skeleton.

Distracted only briefly by the comment you quickly remember the favor Sans left you with little choice other than talking on. The short skeleton was nowhere to be seen, causing you more flustered frustration. “Dammit Sans!” you curse out to the direction he walked off in, “I never agreed to do this!”

You slip your hands under your beanie and rack your nails through your irritatingly short hair. Murphy and that stupid law of theirs should die in a fire. Or stop bugging you today at the very least. Today has just been one problem after the next. Right now your only two solaces are Frisk and this moment of peace. With a heavy sigh you cast your glance downward at Frisk, who was still happy as a clam. “What do you say, small fry? You want to go cheer up that skeleton Papyrus?”

Flashing you their pearly whites in a big goofy grin, Frisk nods and gave you the thumbs up. Or tried to anyway, your jacket was much too large for them and the sleeves went on well passed their hands. You give them a weak smile of your own, only to deadpan when a loud rumble churns in your empty stomach. Frisk started shaking with laughter, that is until their stomach roared in hunger too. “You see?” you smirk to the child petrified with embarrassment, “Karma. Now how's about we have a few snacks to shut our tummies up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter the skeleton brothers. Only took them six chapters to get here. Well now I have a few more chapters planned out so updates should be a little more regular for now, Thursday nights. I hope you guys like it so far. I'd love to know what you think. Comments also really motivate me to write more, it lets me know for sure that you readers think about it.


	7. Proceed With Caution

So maybe your small food supply wasn't comprised of the healthiest of food options; but, considering you didn't know when your next meal is going to be, food is food. You divvy up the the food into fourths as best you can, with one pack of pop tarts, two granola bars, and three fruit snacks set aside for later. As for right now, you two dine on two pop tarts and a granola bar each, Frisk apparently had yet to eat the granola bar you already gave them. Frisk also got to enjoy two fruit snacks and a few slices of unbruised apple you cut off for them. And to complement your late lunch, you share the last of the water.

You stuff all the wrapper into the mesh side pouch of your bookbag, so you can throw them away later. The apple core however, striped clean of practically all its fruity flesh, already started to discolor. You'd rather not have to carry it around, waiting to find a trashcan. You thought about leaving it on the ground when a better idea came to you. You went to the treeline in front of the lamp and sentry station and knelt down. Scooping some of the clean snow into your empty bottle, you clear away a patch until you get to the dirt. After clawing a small hole in the exposed dirt, you drop the core in an cover it.

Getting back to your feet, you're met with a perplexed Frisk. While dusting your hands of as much dirt as you can, you explain, “Now maybe the worms can get it, and who knows, maybe it will grow into a tree. All these other ones managed it.”

The young grade schooler became delighted by that prospect, growing a happy smile on their lips. You smile back and offer your hand as you walk further down the path. While the two of you walk along the small dirt forest path, you mentally thank whoever for all the snow being shoveled off or compacted down. Your flimsy flat soled skate shoes were not meant to trudge through snow, or puddles for that matter. The three pairs of socks on your feet helped, but not by much.

Coming up to a fork in the road you and Frisk stop to weigh your options. It looked like one of the paths was short, leading to a river. Good to see there's ample amounts of water down here. Even if food ends up being scarce for you two, water, shelter, and sleep is what you need most. Frisk let go of your hand and took a few steps towards the river. You tell them that Papyrus most likely isn't down that way, but they just look back and gesture you over. Quite the explorer.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you follow Frisk down the short path. Coming up to the river bank you find an unattended fishing pole set up with its line in the river. Frisk ran up and toyed with it while you went to the river's edge. There weren't actually fish this far down underground, were there? If so, are they edible? Pulling you from your thoughts by tugging at the hem of your shirt, Frisk pointed to the fishing pole. They had reeled in the line, revealing something on the hook. You inch closer to it to get a better look at what was on the hook. It was a photo, one of a really weird fish looking... thing. Guy? On the photo was a phone number and a note asking for someone to call. Frisk pulls out the old pill shaped cell phone and offers it to you in case you want to dial the number. You decide not to call.

With this route been thoroughly investigated, you both stroll back to the main dirt path to continue on. A ways down the path past the fork, you start to hear a pair of familiar voices talking to one another up ahead. Worry starts to knot in your gut once you get close enough to make out a few of the words exchanged. This seemed like a really, really bad idea. Actively drawing attention to yourselves, letting someone who is adamant about capturing a human know you're down here... Sans better have been telling you the truth about his brother not being dangerous.

Something soft and warm slips into your hand, giving it a small squeeze. Looking down, you find Frisk had crept up to your side to take your hand while you had been dwelling in your thoughts. They gave you a happy smile before picking up their pace leading you down the path. Even if the kid didn't look back to see it, your lips curled up into a weak smile. This kid can read people well, either that or they just got impatient. If that's the case then Frisk has incredible timing.

After passing a large rock on the road you were able to start making out some of the body language each skeleton had accompanying their words. Their conversation had been getting easier to understand as you approached, though the pair had stopped talking for this moment. Neither of them had noticed you yet, Sans just couldn't reply right now. His shoulders shook with laughter, amused by some joke he made, while his taller brother looked annoyed. You're certain you saw Papyrus roll his eyes, but... How? When all this is said and done, you need to set one of these skeletons down and find out how they tick. It's starting to bug you.

“So, as I was saying about Undyne,” Papyrus huffed trying to pick back up the conversation only to stop again. He must have finally noticed you and Frisk in his peripheral, because turned your way with wide eye sockets. He turned back to Sans, only to have Sans turn to look your way. The duo repeat this, getting faster and faster, until both were spinning in place. You raised a questioning brow at the two as they spun. While you were beginning to see what Sans meant about his brother not being a danger, you heard Frisk softly giggling at the skeletons' antics. This day was just chock full of oddities.

The two stopped spinning, both facing you and Frisk for a second before Papyrus turned his brother around with him into a huddle. While their conversation was supposed to be private, neither made an effort to lower their voices. “Sans! Oh my God! Is that...” Papyrus sounded like he was going to burst from giddy excitement, “A human!?” The pair looked over their shoulders to glance back in your direction. Wait. Did he say 'is that' as in a singular thing? Sans said that his brother had never seen a human before, did Papyrus think you and Frisk were a single entity?

Sans glanced back to Papyrus uttering a sound of thought to stall for time before answering, “Actually, I think that's a rock.” Sans' response left Papyrus slightly embarrassed and you utterly dumbfounded. So many things came into question, most of them regarding the taller skeleton's eyesight. In the midst of your fatigued brain once more forced to question everything, Sans got his brother's attention back by asking one of his own, “Hey, what are those in front of the rock?”

Papyrus looked back, this time actually looking at you and Frisk. Then again, you thought that the first time. The skeleton in the heroic outfit shouted another interjection in excitement and turned to Sans. He lowered his voice this time, but you could still clearly hear him, “Are... Sans are those humans!?” Sans nodded his reply causing Papyrus to shout and cheer, “Oh my God! I finally did it! Undyne will... I'm gonna... I'll be so... Popular! Popular!! Popular!!!”

The skeleton could hardly finish a sentence he was so thrilled. The corners of your mouth pull upward and you have to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. This guy was such a happy dork, you had to try your hardest not to look rude by laughing at him. His exuberant ramblings made you almost forget his goal. Almost.

The threat of capture and death soured your mood back to a cautious one. You squeeze Frisk's hand for reassurance. Though your not sure if it was for them or yourself. You watch with focused eyes while Papyrus clears his throat, or something of the like, and fully turns around.

The hero skeleton puffs out his chest and begins an announcement for you and your small companion, “Humans! You shall not pass this area! I, The Great Papyrus, will stop you! I will then capture you both! You will be delivered to the capital! Then! Then...” he trailed off. You had a pretty good bet you knew what happened 'then'. Your brows knit downward and your muscles tense, but you said nothing. “I'm not sure what happens next,” The skeleton mumbled before picking back up with returned enthusiasm, “In any case! Continue... Only if you dare!”

After concluding his warning, Papyrus ran down the path laughing that same Skeletor-esque laugh from earlier. Once it was relatively far into the distance Sans turned to you two. “Well, that went well,” he shrugged with a smile, though it fell when he added, “Sorta.” The white dots of light in his sockets were fixed specifically on you. You try your best to ignore it, focusing instead on taking calming breaths. “Look pal, don't sweat it. My bro isn't going to hurt you or the kid. Plus, I'll be keeping an eye socket out for the both of ya.”

“Thanks, Sans,” you utter, relaxing some, “but that doesn't magically erase all my worries.” You felt Frisk squeeze your hand, and you rub your thumb over the back of theirs.

“Only natural to worry, I suppose,” Sans said with another shrug, “Just don't let that worry of yours make you do something you'll regret.” The air became silent again. With no more words to be exchanged, Sans left, following after his brother.

With both skeletons you let out a heavy sigh. The warm air from your lungs turns into a foggy cloud in the cold. Something about seeing the cloud of carbon dioxide wisp through the air always seemed to pull your lips into a smile. You look down at Frisk with the tired smile on your face, but they didn't smile back. You knelt down with worry knitting your brow and wiping the smile from your face. Frisk shifted on their feet, having trouble keeping eye contact with you. Poor thing was getting nervous now that you voiced your worry.

“You okay, squirt?” you ask lightly taking hold of their shoulders. They gave you a small nod still sporting a somber look. You pull your lips into a tight line for a moment to think before smiling softly to Frisk, “Those skeletons are really silly, aren't they?”

Frisk perked up some at that, enough to make eye contact with you again. They nod, a smile starting to form on their lips. Much better. You smile back and ruffle their hair. Standing back up you pull out your boxy time-telling flashlight, to check just that. It's a quarter pasted two. Another forty-five minutes or so, and Mr. Blank was going to fly off the handle. Oh, you almost wished you could be there to see it. Then again if you were there, he wouldn't be quite as angry. 

Smirking at the potential domino effect you slip your next to useless phone back into your pocket. It was still pretty early in the day, you didn't have to start making camp just yet. But did you really want to brave further into the forest? You should get Frisk's opinion at least, their pretty perceptive for an eight year old. “So what do you think we should do, Frisk? Make a camp now and rest, or see what those skeletons have up their sleeves?” Without any hesitation, Frisk points down the path while bouncing on the balls of their feet. “Yeah, making camp now would just postpone the inevitable, wouldn't it?” you ask rhetorically. Frisk got confused at the end of your statement, but you just smile and tell them not to worry about it. “Come on, let's get going.”

Grinning like an idiot, Frisk took one of your hands in both of theirs. They pulled your arm a few times before giving up and bolting away. They stopped a good fifteen feet in front of you, beckoning you to hurry up. Feeding a kid a lunch comprised almost solely of sugar probably wasn't a smart idea. Well, it was either sugary food of go hungry. Didn't matter anyway, the damage was done. You'll just have to deal with an energetic Frisk.

They continued to bolt down the winding road fifteen to twenty feet at a time, then stopped to wait albeit impatiently for you to catch up. You kept telling them you weren't going to run on snowy, icy terrain with no arch support, no slip resistance, flimsy canvas comprised converses, but Frisk still moaned about it. You kept a moderately fast pace while walking, Frisk was just going to have to deal.

Along your way down the road Frisk ran up to what looked to be a giant cardboard box. Walking up to it you notice two things. One, it was huge, standing a few feet taller than you. And two, it was cut and shaped to look like an out-post or checkpoint station. It reminded you of the box forts you constructed as a kid.

This cardboard station had seen better days. Snow on the roof weighed in down too much causing the tape holding the flaps into a point to come undone. The walls didn't fair much better. They were warped at points and starting to buckle from its own weight. It was sad to see it like this, the box station probably looked really nice when it was first made.

You two move on to let the poor thing disintegrate in peace. A little ways along the path straightened out. With it now a straight stretch you can spot a sign on the side of the road just up ahead. Frisk bolted off again when you got to the sign. You roll your eyes at the sugar fueled child and read the sign. “Absolutely NO MOVING!!!”

It felt like your heart stopped beating when you read the sign. The low growl of a dog caught your ear and you whip your head to the side to have Frisk in your vision again. A new worry knotted in your gut when you saw Frisk in front of another sentry station with a shifty eyed dog attending it.

“Did something move?” it gruffly barked, “Was it my imagination?” Frisk was standing no less than five feet away from it, how could it not see them? Oh, you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth though. “I can only see moving things.” and there's your answer, not that it does you a whole lot of good right now. “If something _was_ moving, for example, a human... I'll make sure it NEVER moves again!”

You watch with dread as the red heart that is Frisk's soul get pulled from their body. With a quick glance down at yourself you find no trace of your own soul. This fight was between Frisk and the dog. Frisk showed no fear. In fact, Frisk looked as wide-eyed as kids get when they see a puppy.

“Don't move an inch,” the anthropomorphic dog growled. A light blue sword was slowly dragged across the air, closer and closer to Frisk, but they didn't move. What are they doing!? Dodge! Run! Why were they just going to let the blade cut them!? Better yet, why weren't you voicing your questions!?

Then, the sword passed through them. And nothing happened. For some reason, despite having a sword go straight through them, Frisk had been unscathed. You couldn't wrap your head around it, but you were still grateful.

The dog scanned its environment, searching for movement. Frisk used the opportunity to cautiously creep up to the saber wielding canine and pat its head. This caused the dog to freak the hell out and start barking like crazy. “What!? I've been pet!”

Another blue sword cut through the air, this one more frantically than the first. Once more, Frisk didn't move while it swept past them, and once more no harm came to them. The dog began to shake and scan the area again. Frisk's soul disappeared back into their body as the dog muttered to itself. “S-something pet me,” it stuttered, “Something that isn't m-moving. I'm gonna need some dog treats for this.” Whimpering and shaking the freaked out canine retreated back into the shadows of its out-post.

You motion with your hand for Frisk to keep going. Fighting back your urge to break into a run, you silently crept along. Only once you were both passed the dog with poor eyesight did you breath a sigh of relief. You were going to have a head full of gray hair and a frail heart by the end of the week if things keep going like this.

Frisk on the other hand didn't miss a beat. Nope, they just pet the dog like it was any other then went on their way. You were really starting to envy their ability to go with the flow. You let out another tiny sigh as you walk side by side with them. Things will calm down eventually, right? Right. So for now you and Frisk will just have to keep pushing forward.


	8. Life And Death (And Puzzles)

Frisk bounded up ahead of you in short bursts, the long sleeves of your jacket vigorously swinging everywhere while they did so. While you still let Frisk run in short bursts, after the event with the poor-sighted dog you got on to Frisk any time they ran more than ten feet away from you. This didn't stop you both from encountering other monsters though. While you and Frisk walk around the large frozen pond some young monsters kind of picked a fight with you two. Really they were just looking for some attention, that little monster with the hat of ice could have been nicer about it though.

The trees started to thin out, and when they did you reeled Frisk back to keep them close. With the added visibility that came with few trees, you spot Sans and Papyrus up ahead. The brothers were talking to each other again, well it was more of Papyrus scolding his brother again. You think you hear something about napping.

Coming up to a large square void of snow with the brothers on the opposite side you clearly hear Papyrus brush off whatever Sans had said with, “Excuses, excuses!” The two noticed Frisk's and your presents there after causing Papyrus' mood to brighten. “Oh-Ho! The humans arrive!” The tall skeleton was positively beaming, “In order to stop you, my brother and I have created some puzzles!” That... didn't seem so bad. Frisk really liked solving the puzzles in the Ruins. This sounded like this could be fun, but you didn't want to get your hopes up too much.

“I think you will find this one,” Papyrus trailed off some, for what you think is supposed to be for dramatic purposes, “Quite shocking! For you see, this is the invisible electricity maze! When you touch the walls of this maze, this orb will administer a hearty zap!”

Your eyes flick downward to the skeleton's hand, and sure enough he was holding an orb light blue in color. So if you and Frisk go through the maze with Papyrus holding the orb, will he be the one to get electrocuted? You look back up to see a smug look on the taller's skeletal face. “Sound like fun? Because! The amount of fun you will probably have, is actually rather small I think.”

He gave you the okay to start heading through the maze, but you didn't budge just yet. You cross your arms and furrow your brow a bit. Actions that seemed to draw attention to yourself, because all the others present were looking at you. “Are you trying to capture us or kill us? 'Cause this seems like you're trying to kill us.”

“W-what!?” Papyrus questioned in shock, “No! It's supposed to hurt some, b-but not enough to kill you!”

You narrow your eyes at the boney figure across the way, searching his features. Giving up shortly there after, having found nothing but genuine concern, you heave out a heave sigh and stretch out your dominant hand. “Alright fine, give me that orb thingy,” You respond ever so slightly defeated. Narrowing your eyes again you're quick to add, “But my friend here get a free pass. I weigh more than them so the electricity won't hurt me as much as it would them.”

“O-oh, certainly!” Papyrus accepted with a swift nod. A small smile returned to his face as he wound his way through the invisible maze. You blink a few times when you notice the footprints he, apparently unknowingly, left behind. A couple of seconds later, Papyrus stood right in front of you. He stood taller than you, but only by a few inches, probably four inches at the most.

Papyrus retched out to hand you off the orb, but froze. He was staring at you, or more precisely, your torso. Oh yeah, that stupid pirate shirt, you're still wearing it aren't you? Crossing your arms back over your chest you look away with a nervous laugh. You were definitely burning this shirt later.

“Human, that emblem on your shirt...” Papyrus started still transfixed on your apparel, “are you a member of the clan of humans that have descended from skeletons?” You look back to him, struggling to process the question, ending up just making a confused sound. Thankfully, Papyrus elaborated, his smile growing brighter as he did so, “I have a flag in my room with that same emblem on it. It came from the human world. You must have descended from skeletons, why else would you have one on one of your flags?”

You blink a few times from his question, still somewhat dazed. “Do...” you manage to start, “Do you want me to answer that now, or...?” Papyrus became exited and practically squealed his request for you to hold on a moment before explaining. He handed you the orb and ran back to the other side like a bat out of hell. Once back with his brother, Papyrus asked for your explanation. You smile a bit at the skeleton's eagerness. “Alright, here's a quick history lesson, I guess.”

Brushing your makeshift scarf out of the way, you tug the bottom hem of your tee to stretch it some. “Okay, um, this; the skull and crossbones, it's also known as a Jolly Roger. Way back when, pirate ships would have flags with this. Originally, it was seen as threatening and scary, but now its just a cool design.”

“Yes, it is a very cool design, human,” Papyrus agreed, “but you haven't confirmed my theory yet as to why a skeleton would be on one of your flags in the first place.”

“I mean, I kinda told you why,” you murmur starting to get uncomfortable, “The skull and bones on a black flag were used as a threat. Both skeletons and the color black are... um... associated with... death.” After the words were out you look off to the side with a meek shrug. Both skeletons had been rendered speechless. Making a quick glance back to them, you see Sans just looking on blankly while Papyrus' mouth hung open. You should have just kept your trap shut.

“D-death?” Papyrus parroted after regaining some composure, “Why on Earth would humans associate us with death? We're so nice and super cuddly!”

“Well, um, you guys might be... those things. But you're still monsters, right?” you ask rhetorically starting to fidget, “You see when a human dies all of our skin, muscles, and other organs start to break down; rotting and decaying away. The calcium that makes up our bones lasts-”

“Humans have bone!?” Papyrus cut in.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small nervous laugh, “we wouldn't be able to stand upright without them. They also protect vital organs.”

“You are very knowledgeable, human!” The taller complemented earning another small nervous laugh from you, “Before Undyne takes you to the capital after I, The Great Papyrus, have captured you two, I would very much like to hear more of your human history! In the meantime I shall be up ahead waiting for you both at the next puzzle!” And with that Papyrus left in a hurry, laughing all the way.

After the skeleton named after a plant departed, Sans was the first to pipe up of the confused left in his brother's wake. “Guess he forgot you hadn't gone through the maze yet.” You made a small noise of agreement, full words not coming to your addled brain just yet. Sans chuckled a bit before going on, “Just leave that orb on the ground over there, then you can walk over without any problems.”

You nod and cut through the square after dropping the orb. Frisk however, chose to follow in Papyrus' footsteps he had accidentally left behind. You heard the crackling of electricity behind you, but felt none of it, nor did Frisk. When you cleared the square maze thing and got to the side Sans was on, Frisk booked it to catch up to you, tackling you into a hug when they did.

“Hey, thanks,” Sans said when you both got to him, “My brother seems like he's having fun. Even if he did forget to stick around while you go through the maze.” With a smile still etched on his face the specs of light in Sans' eye sockets flicked between you and Frisk. “You two seem pretty close, you guys siblings or something?”

“No,” you answer with a weak laugh and smile. You put on hand on top of Frisk's head, who in turn hugged you tighter. “I'm an only child. We just happened to met on the bus this morning. We were both running away from our... Well, home isn't really the right word for either of us.”

“You two just bumped into each other?” Sans questioned, “I mean down here I can see that, but up there? Isn't the Surface supposed to be really big? Seems like a pretty big coincidence to meet like that.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “But stranger things have happened... Well, all things considered, maybe not stranger. But equally weird stuff has happened.”

“Guess so,” he sighed closing his eyes, still smiling. Is now a good time to ask him how he can move bone like that? Probably not. He opens his eyes lazily looking back at you. “Anyway, you two should probably get going. Pap gets really fidgety if he's waiting around too long.”

“Alright,” you say turning yourself and a still attached Frisk to leave, “see you later then?”

“Yeah, I'll see you two half skeletons up ahead,” Sans replied with his grin stretching wider, “hope you two don't get too _bonely_ in the meantime.”

That one got you. You couldn't stop your lips from pulling up into a tiny smile at his stupid pun. Frisk giggles away at the dumb joke while you shake your head and halfheartedly grumble at him, “Oh my god, Sans. You're the worst.” Pinching the bridge of your nose as your shoulders shake with suppressed laughs you usher Frisk away from the short skeleton.

You made Frisk hold your hand as you walked across the snowy plateau. It had gotten a little narrower and now more than ever you didn't want Frisk running up ahead any more. The narrowness was short lived though. Soon enough, the plateau widened to have more room to walk. You even saw someone else up ahead a short ways.

Off to the side, a little closer to the edge than you personally would want to be, a tall blue furred monster leaned against a cart. They wore a bright yellow and red outfit matching the cart's umbrella. Were they a vendor? What on Earth could they be selling out in the middle of nowhere? Actually, as you got closer, you notice they look kinda sad.

Curious, you walk up to the presumed vendor. Plus Frisk was tugging on your hand to try and lead you there anyway. Hearing your footsteps in the snow the barefoot bunny person peeked out of one eye to see you and Frisk approach. They jumped with excitement and the long ears on their head stood up in alert. “Oh! Customers!” he chirped, “Hello, would you like some Nice Cream? It's the frozen treat that warms your soul! Just fifteen gold each.”

Now you know what monsters use for currency, too bad you don't have any. You were going to apologize to the vendor explaining that you don't have any money. Then Frisk reached into their pants pocket and handed the three gold coins. You look over to Frisk blankly as they pull out their red candy and point to it. The vendor, apparently understanding Frisk's request then turned to you asking what flavor you wanted. Shaking yourself from your daze you answer with your default favorite, “Oh, uh, chocolate please. If you have it.”

“Sure do!” the blue bunny guy cheered, “One strawberry and one chocolate, coming right up!” He quickly scooped the two flavors into two cones wrapped with paper and handed them to you and Frisk. Frisk greedily took the cone from him and smiled. You offered him a smile as well, along with a thanks. “You're very welcome. Have a super-duper day!”

You nod and bid him a farewell, and carry on your way. After crossing the nearby bridge and getting out of earshot of the nice cream guy, you get Frisk's attention. Looking up at you with pink all over their mouth and chin, you have to stifle a laugh as you interrogate them, “How and where did you get monster money?”

Frisk blinked once before looking down at the nice cream in their hands. They puff out their cheeks, shooting a glare at their. Not wanting their brain to overheat from trying to figure out what to do with their nice cream, you offer to hold on to their frozen treat. With you now holding both deserts Frisk crouches down and uses their index finger to write in the snow, “Found it.”

“Found it where?” you ask raising a brow. Frisk is a good kid, you doubted they stole it. But you never know. Kids sometimes take small things without fully understanding it's a bad thing. To answer you this time Frisk just stood back up and pointed to an untouched patch of snow. “You found it on the ground?” They nodded and a moment later they reached up to you asking for their treat back. Grinning at you as they take it, you smile back and finally take a few bite of your own treat. “You know, after having such a sugary lunch, we shouldn't be eating ice cream on top of that.”

Frisk just shrugged and kept walking. Shaking your head at them, you kept pace with the kid, staying to their side as you both enjoyed your treats. You come up to some kind of large open field, cleared of snow, and straight ahead you saw Sans hanging out be a few trees and a path. For someone with short legs, Sans sure seems to be able to get around quickly.

“Hey,” you casually greet the skeleton between bites upon your approach, “Papyrus up ahead then?” you accompany your with a point down the path.

“Nah, over there's just Dogamy and Dogarrisa's outposts,” He motioned with his head down towards the large cleared field and continued, “If you head down that way, there's another path that'll take you right too 'im.”

“Oh, okay,” you murmur looking over your shoulder to see the field.

“You guys get me any nice cream?” You hear Sans ask.

Looking back to him, you see the smile on Sans' skull shifted to a small smirk. You roll your eyes and gestured to Frisk, “Ask moneybags the metal detector over here, they're the one picking up gold. Now if you guys also used our currency, then I could buy you some. But you don't, so I can't... You don't actually use our currency do you? Or have some kind of exchange rate for it?”

“Nope and nope. Sorry.”

Feeling a little defeated you sigh, “It's fine. I've gotten by on less.” With a weak shrug you fish out your phone to check the time. You do a quick double take seeing the time, a quarter till three. Only a half hour had passed since you last looked at the time? “Wow,”you mused slipping your phone back into your pocket. Sans asked why you said that to which you answer, “school's almost already out. That means we've been down here a total of... almost four whole hours? Geez.” you close your eyes for a second and heave out a heavy sigh, “We better get going before we freeze our butts off.”

“'Kay,” Sans said with a small wave as you and Frisk turn to leave, “see ya up ahead then.”

He stayed put while you and the human metal detector follow Sans' directions to the other path. While walking through it you note that the field void of snow resembled a mini-golf hole. There was a large ball of snow back at the other end, so maybe mini-golf soccer. That sounded like fun, but you two had to get a move on. Plus you both still had nice cream cones to finish eating. Although, Frisk had significantly less remaining dessert than you.

The plateau started to narrow again, so you had Frisk stick close to you once more. At this area however, the plateau wasn't as high up. Or the forest down there wasn't so low. It was one of those things. Either way, there wasn't as much of a difference in altitude from where you were at and the ground not making up the plateau. You were still very much above the treetops though, and you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Coming up to another rectangle cleared of snow, you spy the Skeletons once again on the other side of it. Frisk had just finished their treat as you walked up to the rectangle, taking the paper wrapper of the cone and folding it neatly to slip into their pocket. You still had a bit of the cone left when you met up with the two.

The heroically dressed skeleton had his proud air about him that carried over into his voice, “Humans! I hope you're ready for...” Papyrus paused, casting his line of sight downward to the snowless rectangle. You follow the skeleton's gaze and spot a sheet of paper laying in the center of the clearing. Looking back to his brother Papyrus' expression soured, “Sans! Where's the puzzle!?”

“It's right there,” Sans answered pointing to the paper, “On the ground. Trust me. There's no way they can get past this one.”

Frisk ran up to the paper and picked it up. After glossing it over they ran back to you with a smile on their ice cream stained face. Too bad you don't have napkins. They showed you the paper, a kids' word search was printed on it. Taking the hint, you move your cone to your mouth to hold it between your teeth while you got your bookbag off your back. You felt the ice cream chill the tip of your nose as you dug out the red notebook and mechanical pencil for Frisk. 

The kid readied the pencil as you slung the backpack back onto your shoulders. When it was back on, you take the cone from your mouth and wipe at the ice cream left with your bare wrist. You tried not to get any chocolate on your sleeve, but your efforts were in vain. Figures.

“Looks like I didn't need to get today's crossword after all,” Sans said after Frisk sat down in the middle of the clear patch to work on the word search.

“Crosswords!?” Papyrus questioned shooting his brother an irritated look, “I can't believe you said that! I my opinion, Junior Jumble is easily the hardest.”

“What? Really, dude?” Sans asked confused, “That easy-peasy word scramble? That's for baby bones.”

“Un. Believable,” the taller skeleton lamented. Then as if struck by an idea he turned his gaze to you. With a toothy smile he called out to you, “Human, you are very knowledgeable, solve this dispute.”

“Over which on is harder? Um, that kinda depends,” you tepidly voice the wishy-washy response, “I mean if someone were dyslexic or something that could make the word jumble extremely difficult. Then again, having that would more than likely make crosswords more challenging too.” Having both the skeletons' attention on you made you squirm and fidget. You start to laugh a little out of nervousness. “Man, I don't know. I always liked Sudoku best anyway.”

“Su-do-ku?” Papyrus repeated with a tilt of his head. “What's that?”

“It's a number puzzle,” you answer a tad shocked that he didn't know of it, “There's a nine by nine grid with nine, three by three boxes. The goal is to get each column, row, and box to have all numbers one through nine, no repeats.” While you explain the puzzle your free hand is in your pocket thumbing over your smart not-a-phone. You could show them what it is, you have an app for it. Is it really a wise idea though? Papyrus is still trying to capture you and Frisk, right? But Sans said he's harmless, and from what you've seen so far, that statement's been pretty true.

With a weak smile you add, “I got a Sudoku app on my phone, if you wanna see it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took kind of break from writing more of the the first drafts this week and played a lot of a cute farming game I got; Stardew Valley, you heard of it? There's mining in it and I all most every time in games like that I spend hours in the caves mining for treasure. Well, there's monsters living in the caves of that game and more importantly skeletons, and oh my gosh I feel bad killing them... Dammit! why can't I just flirt with them instead? I want someone to mod the game and make a skeleton bachelor, that would be the best.


	9. Chill Out

His eyes. Holy crap, Papyrus' eyes. If Sans' eyes had stars in them earlier, Papyrus had two galaxies twinkling in those eye sockets of his. With a huge smile plastered on his skeletal features Papyrus eagerly accepted your offer to see the app. Now you have to go over there. You take a slow pace crossing the cleared patch of ground, and you use the time to quickly finish your nice cream, stuffing the paper wrapper in one of your pockets when it was gone. You manage to catch a quick look at Frisk's progress as you pass by, they had maybe half the words on the list crossed off.

Once at the other end of the rectangle, you stop a few feet in front of the skeleton duo. This felt like a really stupid mistake. You were starting to lose what little nerve you had. Trying not to let your growing anxiety shake your hands, you pull your so called phone out of your pocket. Unlocking it and opening the app you mentioned, you timidly gesture for the skeleton to get closer as you turn some so that he could look over your shoulder. 

“Um, see here?” you mutter after a new game loaded. The heroic looking skeleton inched closer, coming up to your right and looked over your shoulder at the device in your hand. Paranoia buzzed in the back of your mind from the proximity of the skeleton, but you did your best to push that feeling down. “It gives you some of the numbers and you have to figure out where the rest go based on what's there.” You start plugging in the numbers, and having selected the easiest setting for simplicity's sake there aren't a lot of numbers missing. “It's kinda fun to do when waiting for class to start or when I'm on break.”

“Wait... then do you work as a teacher?” Papyrus asked, his volume was still set to loud, but he wasn't shouting in your ear.

“That can't be right,” Sans cut in, “You're sleeves are striped and have a backpack.”

Sans' remark threw you off entirely. You click your hand-held computer off and take a step away from the skeletons while turning around to face them. “What the heck does that have to do with anything?” you question but give them no time to answer, “Look, I'm in high school and have a part time job, or at least that used to be the case. It's not all that uncommon.”

“It actually is uncommon,” Sans countered, “down here anyway.”

Asking for some clarification prompted Papyrus to answer, “Monsters don't start working until they're sixteen or so, that's normally when they're out of basic school. If they want to continue their education they're either self taught or find a mentor.” After answering the hero skeleton added beaming, “Like me! I'm apprenticing under Undyne, Captain on the Royal Guard!”

“You guys are normally out of school at sixteen? Lucky,” you grumble rather envious, “I'm sixteen now, and had to work myself down... work my butt off just to graduate a year early. I also got lucky in elementary school and got to skip forth grade.”

“Wowie! You're sixteen?” Papyrus asked. You nod your response with a slightly questioning look towards the skeleton. At the same time, Frisk ran up to you and the skeletons, showing off the finished word search. They hand the paper over the puzzle giver, and Sans folds it before slipping it into his pocket. As that exchange happened Papyrus added, “You're a lot closer in age to Sans and me than I thought. I guess those stripes on your sleeves threw me off.”

You heard graphite scratching against paper, but tuning it out you blurt the question that came to you at Papyrus' last comment. Crossing your arms and raising a brow at the skeletal duo, you ask them for their ages. In unison the brothers respond with, “Eighteen.” That was a whole lot younger than you would have guessed. You would have pegged them to be a century old at the least. But nope, eighteen, barely two years older than you.

There was as tug on your hand. Looking Frisk's way you ask what they want, and Frisk shows you the notebook page they wrote on. Reading over the scribed lines your lips form into a crooked smile. “Yeah, no,” you answer their plea to not go back to school, “you're in second grade, you're going to continue school when we get back.” Frisk puffed out their cheeks before flipping the notebook over to jot down a counter remark. It was Frisk stating that they are smart. “I don't doubt that, sweetpea, but there's a lot more you need to learn.” Frisk wouldn't have it and stuck their tongue out at you, and you just chuckle at their childishness.

“Yes, um, well,” Papyrus cut in trying to get attention back on himself. With all eyes back on him the heroically dressed skeleton straightened his posture to announce, “It seems that my brother's puzzle has only served to stall you, humans. However, the next few obstacles have been designed by none other than The Great Papyrus! Nyeh heh heh!”

And with that, Papyrus ran off once again laughing all the way. You raise a hand covering your mouth to hide your growing smile and laughter. “Geez,” you murmur watching the skeleton shrink in the distance, “Your brother's somethin'” Sans asked what that 'something' was in a casual tone, but with what you thought was a bit of an edge to it. You weren't looking at him when he asked though, so you didn't see if his facial expression matched. “He's, I dunno... super energetic, that's for sure,” you shrug and recross your arms over your chest, “but I'm defiantly starting to get what you mean about him not being dangerous.” The small smile on your lips fall at your sigh, “Is there anyway to convince him _not_ to capture us? I just... I don't...”

“I get'cha,” Sans said after you trailed off, “and yeah, I think there's a way you can get Papyrus to stop trying to capture ya.” You manage to smile weakly at that, but it falls just as quick. You started to ask various questions regarding other monsters picking up where Papyrus might leave off, but Sans cuts you off before you can rattle off too many what if inquiries. “Most monsters here don't even know what a human looks like, so you don't have to worry about all that kind of stuff when you get to Snowdin Town.”

“That's, good to know,” you murmur dropping your arms to stuff the one opposite Frisk into your pants pocket, “Thanks, Sans.” With your free hand by Frisk, they quickly take it and begin to lead the way, waving to Sans as you continue on.

Maybe a minute or so after leaving Sans back at his finished puzzle, you spot something coming up on your left. In front of a cliff face with blue-green flowers on top sat two tables, both holding things you didn't expect to see out in the middle of a forest. Though, truth be told, you didn't expect to see table out in the middle of a forest either, but that's besides the point. Wait, didn't you also see a oddly placed table in the Ruins too? Only that one had nasty cheese sitting out that fused to the plate. On these tables sat a large microwave on the farther one, and a plate of spaghetti on the closer table with a note alongside it.

Frisk bounced up to poke at the cold pasta, while you pick up the note to read it. Half expecting it to merely say; eat me, you're mildly surprised to find an actual note. The handwriting wasn't too bad, all the words were legible, but the author wrote it entirely in uppercase. Your eyes flick to the bottom of the page for evidence on who the author might be. It was Papyrus.

Now knowing who penned this note you read it over, smiling a bit as you do. The note asked for you, or any human really as it seems this note was written before you and Frisk arrived, to enjoy the spaghetti. Papyrus went on to write that it was a trap, one to halt your progress as you dine.

Placing the note back on the table you see Frisk in the corner of your eye trying to pry the plate from the table. Man, it was really stuck to that table, how long has it been sitting there? Too long, that's for sure. With a small huff passing through your upwardly curled lips you pat Frisk's shoulder and guide them away from the frozen meal.

A little ways down the path the trees thin out again into a large open area. Your options were straight and right. Before committing to either of them however, you spy a sign on your left by a large tree. It warned of a dog marriage, whatever that was. When you read the sign there was also this weird glint of light just barely in your peripheral vision over by the tree on your right. Or was it in the tree? You brush it off, there's plenty of weird stuff here already, you need to keep going. Since straight ahead looked like a dead end from where you two stood, you hang right to see what was down that way.

You and Frisk walked along hugging the treeline. There was maybe a thirty foot drop over that edge to the left with only snow at the bottom. Keeping your line of sight mostly transfixed on the cliff edge, you only noticed the monster coming out from the woodwork until after you literally bumped into them.

“Hey, watch it!” the green bird squawked. You blinked in a daze and looked the bird monster over. It looked like that one bird monster you and Frisk met earlier that was cracking a bunch of ice jokes. Only this one had light green feathers and large shade hiding their eyes.

“Sorry,” you apologize rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand, “I, um, wasn't expecting anyone to be walking out of the woods.” While you were starting to sweat nervously, Frisk smiled to the bird and waved to them.

“Whatever,” the shades wearing bird grumbled ruffling some of their feathers, “Hey, you guys haven't seen Snowy, have you?”

“Snowy wouldn't happen to have blue feathers and make a bunch of ice jokes, would they?” you ask still rubbing the nape of your neck. The green confirmed with a nod, saying that was indeed him. “We saw him back...” you pause nibbling on your lip as you recall where you saw the blue bird. “I think it was right after we passed the dog with bad eyes.”

“You mean Doggo?” the bird asked tilting their large feathered head.

“I... guess,” you shrug slipping your hand back into your pants pocket, “We didn't really catch their name.”

“Yeah, Doggo's the guy that can only see things if they move. You two new here or something?” they asked a tad gruffly. You and Frisk both nod, Frisk doing so with a sweet smile. “Let me guess, you and your older sibling ran away from home. All the teens here did that.”

“K-kinda,” you shake your head trying to hide your warm cheeks. Frisk giggled away with a huge grin on their face. Clearing your throat a bit you explain, “I'm actually the older one. Frisk here is eight, I'm sixteen. I... um... didn't have a whole lot of clean laundry left before leaving.” There, the truth, that was simple. No need to lie. Of course you had no idea you would end up in a place with bizarre social norms involving clothing patterns, but whatever.

“Sixteen!?” the pastel green monster squawked, their short beak hanging open revealing rounded teeth. Odd for a bird to have if you think about it. “You're older than me. What the heck's an old person like you running away for?”

“Old!?” That was a new one. Your cheeks start burning from embarrassment, you're not even mad more of just shocked. It's a little weird to be called old, when over the last few months you've been called nothing but a dumbass kid. A minor that doesn't have any legal say over what happens to herself. Here it seems like sixteen is eighteen; then is seventeen, nineteen? Then again, does it really matter? You don't plan on spending your birthday down here.

“Whatever, doesn't matter,” the bird grumbled ruffling their feathers, “Thanks for pointin' out Snowy for me. And if you're wanting to get to Snowdin with all the other adults, the switch to unlock the spike gate is back up and to the right on the ground between three trees. Those skeletons keep activating it every morning. It's annoying.”

The bird monster started heading in the direction you needed to be heading too. You thank them as they, hanging back with Frisk for a minute to put some distance between you. You saw them ruffle their feathers again before they turned left. Now that you could go that way without having to walk in tangent you take a few steps in the right direction only for Frisk to stay put.

Confused by their stillness you ask them what was wrong. Nothing, apparently. Frisk wrote down; snowman, in the notebook. A smirk pulled at your lips after reading that. You ask if they wanted to build one, a snowman that is. They nod, either oblivious to or flat out ignoring your stupid reference and hand you the notebook and pencil. Rolling your eyes with a smirk still on your face, you sling the backpack off your shoulders to carefully put the stationary items back into it while Frisk plays in the snow.

You tell them to stay put while you go find the switch. Frisk only nods as they scan over the ground and wave you off. Cheeky little monkey. Hands stuffed into your jean pockets you stroll off in search for the switch Snowy's friend told you about.

Coming up to the turn a couple of coughs rack through you. The air was beginning to irritate you and your lungs. Rounding the corner you pull out your phone to check the time, almost three, twenty. You'd been out here in the snow, for what? Almost two hours now? You need to get a move on before the cold begins to really cause problems for Frisk and yourself.

You find three trees in a triangle at the end with an odd clearing of snow between them. Figuring this must be where the switch was you dust around the dirt with your foot. Carefully combing through the dirt, your foot hits something smack dab in the middle of the dirt patch. Prodding at the anomaly with your plastic-rubber covered toes you hear a loud click. Two actually, one right next to you, and the other in the near distance.

Satisfied, you straighten your posture and head back to Frisk. Upon turning around you're met with an unexpected sight. An armored white dog stood before you on its hind legs, panting at you with a dopey expression. You barely got a nervous greeting out before the dog bounded up to you, with sword and shield in paw. The tug on your chest came back, pulling your once again gray soul out into the open.

The armored dog waited, panting and wagging it's tail. You offer the snow furred dog a nervous smile before swallowing the lump in your throat. “Um, hey there, boy,” you anxiously coo as you would any other dog. Its tail dropped and it gave a small whine. Nibbling on your lip you try to figure out what you might have done wrong. “G-girl?” you peeped. The dog started wagging its, her, tail again.

You take calculated steps towards the knightly she-dog. With an outstretched hand and slow movements you go to scratch behind her ear. She cranes her head into your palm wagging her tail faster. You were beginning to not worry so much when blue spears shot up from the ground.

This is, it's okay. Don't panic. Ignore the spears inching closer to you. Just don't move, right? That's what Frisk did. Stay still for blue attacks and pet the dogs, simple.

The first spear phased right through you, then the second, then the third. You felt nothing, it was as if the spear were just a lighting trick. When all three disappeared you heaved out a heavy sigh. The dog was still looking up at you with huge puppy eyes, pleading for more pets. You couldn't take it, the dog was too cute. “A-alright!” you blurt giving in to the dog's demands, “but no more spears.”

She wagged her tail faster, lolling out her tongue as she panted. Taking that as a sign on agreement, you continue to scratch behind her ear. She rolled her head more and more into your hand stretching her neck out. Then you realized she was actually stretching her neck, like a cartoon turtle or something.

Yanking your hand away, you stared at the dog who whined as you took a step back out of shock. With her neck extended like that the armored dog now was at eye level with you. You flash her a crooked half smile, and try not to look as nervous as you felt. “I gotta,” you start off then swallow the new lump in your throat, “I gotta get back to my friend now. No more pets. Sorry.”

She whimpered but seemed to understand. Your dull gray heart sank back into your chest. As you parted ways and her neck shrank back to its original length, you noticed what was on the large shield she carried. It was the same emblem scattered throughout the Ruins. With as many times as you've seen that emblem today, you're starting to think monsters slap that on everything, much like the countries above put their flags on just about everything. You were definitely right though about it being shield like and reminiscent of heraldic stuff.

Sniffling at the cold and wiping your nose with your sleeve you stroll back to where you left Frisk. Rounding the corner you spot one large ball of snow, with no one attending it. Your stomach drops. You break into a mad dash, shouting for the child. Skidding to a halt by the abandoned snowman you continue to shout for Frisk by name, frantically surveying the area as you do so.

Maybe they went into the forested part to get sticks for the snowman. You turn to look into the wooded area only to have something fly by on your right. A split second later there's a wet splat against one of the tree trunks and quiet giggles behind you.

Whipping around one hundred eighty degrees you find Frisk. They had a huge grin on their face, framed by unkempt brunette locks and dirt. Their clothes, your clothes actually, were in a similar state, covered in snow and dirt. Those added irritation will have to take a back seat for now, as relief is the first emotion to wash over you. You bolt over to Frisk and scoop them up.

“Oh thank goodness, you're okay,” you exhale setting them back on the ground. Crouching in front of them with your hands gingerly holding their shoulders you knit your brow and try to be extra careful scolding them. Stern and mean are to different thing and you didn't want Frisk to think you're being the wrong one. “Frisk,” you start only to see their bright smile drop, “Why did you wander off? You really scared me when I saw you weren't there.”

Frisk kicked the snow not making eye contact with you. They raised their hands to spell out something. You had to ask them to repeat it a few times before it clicked for you. D-O-G-S. Dogs. Frisk had seen more dogs. You asked how many and Frisk showed you two fingers. The kid probably dropped what they were doing the instant the spike gate unlocked and met more dogs, rolling around with them or something.

With a heavy sigh you pull Fisk into a hug. Smoothing out the back of their hair, you ask if they got hurt at all. A question to which they shake their head; no, into your shoulder. Good, they're not hurt. You don't think you could ever forgive yourself if Frisk got hurt, especially when you couldn't be there for them.


	10. Goodwill, Chaos, And Irritation

Turn every X into an O. Then press the switch. Those were the words written on the sign in front of you. The Xs it mentions lay on the snow blanketed ground just behind the sign. There were two blue Xs, both bordered by large lumpy chunks or snow and ice on three of their sides.

Frisk stood at your left peering at the sign, then the blue on the ground and the gray switch just past them. Frisk had wanted to solve this one since you two had more or less been taking turns on these. You got the maze thing, Frisk got the word search. You found the switch hidden on the ground in between some trees, Frisk gets to figure out how to turn blue Xs into circles. In retrospect, you kinda lucked out on your turns and didn't really have to solve anything.

Thinking of an answer to the puzzle, or perhaps just an action to try, Frisk left your side to inspect one of the Xs. You kept your eye on them as they toyed with the mechanics of the puzzle, but you also kept an eye on someone else. There was the skeleton in the hero get-up just beyond the gate of spikes protruding from the snow covered ground. 

Papyrus had his back... spine? Although, the spine is still the back, isn't it? Anyway, he had his back to you. Papyrus appeared to be intently focused on something up ahead. You doubted he even noticed your presence yet. That was when a devious little thought popped into your mind, curling your lips into a wicked smile. With his attention so fully devoted to whatever lay up ahead, it would be simple to creep up behind him and scare him.

A small click sound and in the corner of your vision the spikes retreated into the earth. Papyrus still hadn't taken notice of either of you. You shoulders shake with a silent laugh as you raise your pointer finger to your lips requesting Frisk to stay quiet. Taking slow calculated footsteps you inch closer to the skeleton, keeping the crunching snow under foot to a minimum.

You stop about five feet behind him to abruptly ask what he was doing. You barely got your first word out before Papyrus nearly jumped out of his... clothes? Guess so, he didn't really have skin to jump out of. Rolling back on your heels, you watch the skeleton turn around and quickly collect himself, chuckling a little to yourself as he does so.

“H-human! You scared me,” Papyrus stuttered his statement.

“You were paying attention to whatever's up ahead rather than us,” you shrug as Frisk joins your side.

“Yes, well...” the skeleton trailed off looking between you and Frisk with sharp eye sockets, “How did you both avoid my trap?” You point your thumb over your shoulder asking if he was referring to the spaghetti back there. Which he was. “But more importantly...” Papyrus trailed off again, this time his expression shifting to a happy smile, hopeful even, “Is there any left for me?”

“Technically, yeah,” you mutter answering his second question, “but it's frozen solid. We couldn't get the plate off the table let alone try to eat it.”

“O-oh,” he responded casting his eyes away from you two, he sounded so crushed, “So neither of you were able to enjoy the flavor of my homecooked pasta?”

You didn't like seeing him looking like this. In roughly the two hours you have known Papyrus he's been energetic and happy, even a bit smug. But right now he looks like a kicked puppy. Biting your lip you apologize saying you would have tried some if it were at all possible, to which Frisk nodded in agreement with you. Papyrus' mood brightened with that. A smile was back on his bony face as he exclaimed, “Fret not humans. I, Master Chef Papyrus will make you both all the pasta you could ever want!”

You were a little shocked by the offer, but a small smile managed to form on your face, “That's... That's really nice of you. Thanks. I don't... We don't have a lot left to eat, and the money I have is worthless here. A spaghetti dinner would be greatly appreciated.”

To your side a fit of coughs and sneezes erupts. Frisk had started wheezing, the cold finally starting to get to them. Kneeling down beside them you vocalize your worry and frustration, “Crap, crap, crap. Oh, sweetpea, don't get sick. Don't get sick.” As you began untying the sleep pants scarf from around your neck Frisk caught their breath and waved you off, not wanting any more layers. “It's been two hours out here in the cold. You need this more than I do.”

“Bigger human,” the forgotten called out to grab your attention, although he didn't wait for a sign of your acknowledgment, “is the smaller human going to be okay?”

“That...” you stop to swallow the dry lump in your throat, “That depends. If we can stay dry and get inside or at least some place warm within the next hour or so, we should be fine. But this air is cold and getting harder to breath.” You sling the bookbag off your shoulders and unzip it to pull out a pair of clean socks. “Here, use these as mittens and keep the hood of the jacket up.” Frisk stuck out their tongue at your socks but you got them to wear the things regardless. You begin to untie your makeshift scarf again only to be stopped once more. This time by an orange cloth in front of you offered by a red glove. You look up at the skeleton attached to the gloved hand, who was just smiling down at you and Frisk.

“If the tiny human is in need of a scarf to help them breath out here, then I'll gladly lend them mine.” Slowly reaching your hand out for the orange scarf, you thank him. You also tell him that you'll try to get it washed before returning it, seeing as Frisk's nose is red and runny. As you wrap the orange scarf around Frisk's neck and lower face Papyrus continues, “It is no trouble humans. And if you need to be inside soon, then we better hurry, there are several more puzzles before you get to Snowdin.”

You softly hum in acknowledgment before slipping your bookbag back on and standing up. Frisk's sock clad hand slipped into your hold and you both follow after Papyrus' swift pace. While following the skeleton he informed you that during his wait for you and Frisk he altered the next puzzle. You would have thought nothing of it had he not also told you that in his doing so, he no longer knew the solution to the puzzle.

Papyrus lead you to a sign, a switch, and an odd maze looking thing with more blue Xs in it. So same as the last one, only more of them. You go over to the short wall made of solid lumps of frozen snow to examine the three paths you could take in this maze thing. Of the three only the one on your right opened up to the far side. Actually, looking to your left you spy a fourth path perpendicular to the other three. You puff out your right cheek as you try to come up with a solution. Really, you wished you could get a top-down view of it, that would certainly help.

Mentally mapping out potential paths to take to solve the puzzle you hear Papyrus chirp, “Human, please know that if the puzzle proves to be too difficult, just let me know. Then I, The Great Papyrus, shall help you solve this conundrum so that we all may proceed.” A little too lost in thought and focused on the obstacle, all you respond with is another hum. It was nice of him though, to offer help if you asked. That said, you still wanted to solve it by yourself, asking for help kinda bugs you. Plus he's already offered you and Frisk a meal, and Frisk his scarf, you don't want or need anymore help.

Finally drawing a mental line for a path that should work, you act on it. You loop over the right path, then cross diagonally to the back loop, covering the middle and, well, what was originally the row on your left. You hit the last two strays and call for Frisk to step on the switch. All the red circles you left in your wake turned a bright green. The color change was also accompanied by a swooshing sound just beyond the maze. You felt pride swell in you. No help this time, it was all you. Well Frisk pushed the button, but whatever.

“Wow! You did it!” Papyrus cheered. You turn to look at the skeleton and child on the side of the lumps of snow, both looked happy. Happy for you. Proud of you. It was bizarre. The last few months you had been torn down by relatives and a new school. Being praised felt alien after so long, but welcomed.

“Uh, thanks,” you mutter glancing away at the two. That swell of pride was quickly overtaken by embarrassment. Coughing purposely to clear your throat you motion Frisk over to you. “Come on squirt, let's get a move on.”

Frisk met you at the opening to the rightmost-slash-bottommost path, and to your surprise so did Papyrus. You chalk that up to Papyrus not wanting to go around puzzle and him rather cutting through it now that it was solved. As you walked single file through the mazey puzzle Papyrus piped up again, “You solved the puzzle very quickly taller human, and without my help. Between this and the grid puzzle you showed me, you must care about puzzles like I do.”

You hum in thought, “Puzzles and critical thinking can be fun, I'll give you that. But I don't think my casual appreciation of them is in the same ballpark as your enthusiasm for them. I couldn't come up with a puzzle to save... uh,” you cut yourself off from finishing the expression as you step over the holes the spike retreated into. Turning around, you avoid making eye contact with the skeleton in your midst. Instead you focus your gaze on Frisk to make sure they cross the retreated spikes without incident. However you do find new words and keep talking to Papyrus, “I couldn't make a good puzzle even if I had an eternity to try.”

“You shouldn't say such things, human,” Papyrus lightly scolded, while you were checking over Frisk. When you straighten back up a moment later you find that Papyrus had gone around you two and now lead the party. On Papyrus' skeletal features was what you could only compare to a sad frown, but it was only there for a second. A bright smile overtook his frown and voiced the idea that brightened his mood, “I know, I could help you make a puzzle! I'm sure that with I, The Great Papyrus helping you, we could make an amazing puzzle.” That got a weak smile out of you. Shaking your head slightly you huff a quiet laugh and give the skeleton a noncommittal hum.

Papyrus swiftly lead you down the short path to a bridge. Politely asking for you and Frisk to stay put for a moment, Papyrus shot across some gray-scale tiles on the ground to meet his brother on the other side. As the taller skeleton reached the other side, turning around and straighten himself back up, Frisk waved to the shorter skeleton. Sans' smile falls some and the dots in his eyes travel from Frisk to his brother. The dots then land on you before Sans closes his eyes and lets his Cheshire grin come back.

Papyrus cleared his throat, or whatever his equivalent of one is, drawing back your attention to him, “Alright humans, here is the next puzzle. You're gonna love this one. It was made by The Great Dr. Alphys!” Well that's a new name, although the skeleton twins never said their last name, Papyrus could still be talking about himself. You cast your gaze down to study the tiles, all various shades of gray. There had to be at least five shades of gray. Oddly enough, as Papyrus explained the puzzle and the functions of the colors that would appear, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. You know you've seen something like this before, but where? “How was that, understand?”

“Yeah,” you pipe up still pondering where you've seen this kind of thing before, “Red: impassible, green: alarm, blue: water, yellow: electric, orange: fruit-scented, purple: soap... and pink: null,” Then it hit you. Soap and null tiles? You remembered exactly where you saw this and your lips curl into a grin. “Oh my God. This is from Mew Mew Kissy Cutie: Cards of Chaos! I can't-” you burst into a fit of giggles trying to string words together between them, “That's like, such an old game, it was on a cartridge. I played the ever loving crap out of it when I was like four or five. Even then it was kinda old!”

“Dr. Alphys got this from an old human video game?” Papyrus asked oddly monotone.

“Either that, or this is a really big coincidence. Cards of Chaos is the only game I can think of that had purple soap tiles and pink null ones,” you chuckle and attempt to calm yourself down.

“Well, um,” Papyrus cleared his for a second time and tried to get things back on track, “If that's the case then this should be extremely easy for you, human. Though be warned, once I throw this switch the puzzle will be completely randomized! Not even I will know the answer.” With your giggles under control you nod to him, and he flips the switch. Now you just gotta wait and see, as long as you're not under a really short time constraint you should do fine.

The ground before you and Frisk begins to flash with weird techy computer sounds. Each tile emits and changed into different colors. Faster and faster, it begins to hurt your eyes. You felt Frisk press their face into your side as you too avert your gaze from the tiles. The sounds suddenly stop, and you dare to look at the tiles maze. A straight path of pink bordered by red stretched out in front of you, and you erupt into laughter.

Frisk removed their face from your side to see what had you howling in laughter. Amazingly you heard them giggling some between your laughs. After a minute to let your laughs die down you wipe your eyes and look back to the skeleton brothers. Except, it was just Sans over there. Your mild confusion over Papyrus' absence ran through your head for only a moment before it turned to worry, “Did? Did I upset Papyrus? I'm sorry,” you apologize with a knot forming in your stomach, “I didn't mean to. I was-”

“You're fine, pal,” Sans interrupts you, “My bro isn't upset. He just kinda spun away while you two laughed.”

“Oookay,” you blink, “alright then...”

You gesture your hand over to Frisk, who takes it in theirs, following you down the pink tile road. Sans seems to have his eyes trained on Frisk, but looks up to you when he speaks again, smile still ever present on his face, “You went from threatenin' me with a knife to worryin' about my brother's feelings in two hours. Quite the turnaround, buddy.”

“Yeah well...” you mumble stopping by Sans. You turn towards him but only make eye contact for a brief moment before you lose some of your nerve. “We had a talking flower try to kill us and a goat lady warn us about some Asgore person that would have us killed too. I was more than a little on edge by the time you lurked out of the shadows to scare us.” While you justify your rash actions from earlier, Sans starts chuckling. You stop a moment, confused, then realize the pun you made. Slipping your hand out of Frisk's hold you cross your arms. “Oh my God. Whatever, you get my point!” Sans laughs more and you are certain your face is pure red right now. “Dammit! You know what I mean!”

Flustered and wanting to remove yourself from the conversation, you march off. Sans, in a jovial tone, continues making puns. “Do you really have to cut and run? Oh well, it was knife seeing you again. Shanks again for your time and helping make my bro's day.” You didn't even have to turn around to know that his Cheshire grin was stretched wide across his face. You're about ready to scream your head off. How has this guy not been smothered in his sleep?

Putting maybe close to ten feet between you and the skeleton you hear rapid crunching behind you, moving closer. There was a grip around your wrist followed by a light pull on your arm. Petty annoyance gave way to shock when you realized you started to storm off without Frisk. You've been so used to being by yourself, you completely forgot about them for a moment. You unclench your fist to let their hand slide down into yours and you take a deep breath to calm down.

In your moment of pause you weigh your options. Apologize and waste more time talking out in the cold, or move on? Frisk gave a few coughs at your side and your mind was made up. You gave their hand a small squeeze, as a sort of wordless apology. “Come on,” You say getting your tone back to a steady one, “If we stick around this pun filled skeleton too much longer, I'm going to start worrying about his safety and the potential assault and battery charges I'd get.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Cards of Chaos... I was trying to think of fake game titles and Yu-Gi-Oh came to mind at the time. There's two other fake title I really ended up liking and I might use somewhere else in the story as little throw away things or whatever. Anyway, I'm finishing up what I've decided to be the first act or arc in the story, but that still won't happen for a few more chapters.


	11. Out With The Old, In With The New

Ragged puffs of air turned to clouds upon your exhales. After flopping and falling on ice with the grace of a seal pup, and playing with a large over excited dog in armor, you and Frisk stood in front of a long narrow rope bridge. You can barely make out two figure on the other cliff, the one you needed to get took. You also see, plain as day... or whatever, a sea of trees far below the bridge, waiting for you should you or Frisk misstep.

Fighting down the lump in your throat, you take a tight hold of Frisk's hand and use your other one to sweep over the rope railing. You cast a quick look to Frisk, offering them a strained smile to try and reassure them. Only, they didn't need reassurance. Frisk pulled down the orange scarf loaned to them and smiled back to you. A genuine, carefree smile, you had no clue how they managed it.

Putting it off no longer you take a step onto the bridge, and notice something strange. There was absolutely no give from the bridge underfoot. This was strange, but you try not to let it get to you as you push forward. Left foot. Right foot. Left, right, left, right. You inch along the bridge at the speed of molasses going uphill in summer, with crutches, but even so you and Frisk get closer to the other side.

By the time you two reach the halfway point, you stomach is flip-flopping. Not only was the height getting to you, but the disassociation in your brain. You see, what you _should_ be feeling under your feet and what you _are_ feeling is messing with your brain. The bridge is made of rope and wood, you _should_ be hearing creaks, feel a slight give from the bridge, but there is none of that. The bridge feels solid, like you're walking on a slab of rock. This bridge is messing with your senses, and your stomach is the one paying the price.

It was a miracle you managed to practically reach the other side without puking over the edge. You relief of getting back to solid ground quickly is dashed away when Papyrus calls out to you and Frisk, “Humans! This is your final and most dangerous challenge!” Craaaaaaap! Not now, you're going to lose what little lunch you had in a few minutes. “Behold! The gauntlet of deadly terror!”

Something odd and unexpected caught your ear a second later. Crackling fire, metal creaking against metal, and an ominous sound of strained rope lazily swinging, all three sound echo in your ear. The sounds were accompanied by another strange thing, warmth. For the first time since leaving the Ruins you felt something warm the air around you. You glance around wanting to find the source of these anomalies, and regret doing so the instant you find them.

On the right, below the bridge three weapons suspended in the air stayed trained on you and Frisk. The heat radiated from the fire emitting pipe weapon closest to you. It was followed by a large spear, which in turn was followed by a cannon. Above your head, also suspended in the air were three more weapons. Some kind of giant flail or morning star thing, another spear, and... was that a dog?

“When I say the word, it will fully activate!” Papyrus announced. Your blood chilled colder than the weather around you. Sans said his brother wasn't dangerous, even when he tries to be. He wasn't lying, right? This is all fake, constructed out of rubber and foam, it had to be. Or else... You didn't want to think about 'or else,' but to your dismay, Papyrus seemed to voice the; or else, “Cannons will fire! Spikes will swing! Blades will slice! Each part will swing violently up and down. Only the tiniest chance of victory will remain!” You felt yourself trembling, the ice in your veins freezing your legs. This can't be real. This can't be happening. This isn't, you won't actually die for not adhering to that weed's philosophy, right? No. Please, no! “Are you ready?!” No, no, no, no, no! “Because! ...I! ...Am! ...About! ...To do it!”

With a whimper you turn your back to them, hugging Frisk to your torso. You're still shaking like a leaf, dreading the onslaught. Tears well behind your tightly shut eyes expecting Papyrus to give the command. Instead you hear Sans. “Well? What's the holdup?”

“H-holdup!?” Papyrus defensively parroted back, “What holdup!? I'm... about to activate it now!”

Your gymnast stomach ties itself in tight knots in the next moment of pause. Seconds drag by at a snail's pace but still nothing. Chancing a look at the skeletons, you see Papyrus. He's sporting a halfhearted glare accompanied by rattling bones. He's having second thoughts. That... That's good, right?

“That doesn't look very activated,” Sans points out.

“Well! This challenge!” Papyrus started. He... he seemed to be stalling, “It seems... maybe... too easy to defeat the humans with.” stomach still in knots you watch with wide eyes. He looks unsure and is making excuses. He really is having second thoughts. “Yeah! We can't use this one! I'm a skeleton with standard! My puzzles are fair, and my traps are expertly cooked!” Papyrus proudly announced before frowning and brushing off his next statement, “But this method is too direct! No class at all! Away it goes!”

With a dismissive wave from the taller skeleton the suspended weaponry are surrounded in an odd dark blue glow before retreating to where ever they came from. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and ears, blocking out any outside sounds. You watch Papyrus, still frozen in place, but when he goes to say something you can't make out a word of it. He turned to leave a few moments later, and not a second after he's far enough away you hold on tight to Frisk and book it to solid snowy ground.

Once you both were on more stable ground you let go of Frisk's hand. Leaving Frisk by Sans, you run right past them, straight to the ledge in front of them and collapsing to your hands in knees. Fear, worry, adrenaline, some form of motion sickness, all of those twisted in your gut and made you nauseous. Your stomach lurched and you were no longer able to keep down your meager lunch. Your throat burned as acid and watery chunks of poptart, granola, and apple plopped onto the snow. Empty and still shaking, you spit a few times in a poor attempt to get the flavor out. You were just thankful you held your pajama pants scarf to your chest so it didn't get dirty.

Snow crunched behind you, with what sounded like two sets of footsteps. “H-hey buddy, you alright?” Sans asked with nervousness evident in his tone. You groan and want to make a sarcastic remark, but bite it back remembering last time you used sarcasm around him. Instead you groan out a negative response to his question, and push yourself to sit back on your heels. “Do you-? Are you...?” Sans trailed off uncertain with how to deal with you.

More snow crunched behind you and then a small hand was on your upper back, right above where your backpack rested, rubbing circles. You see Frisk standing at your side in the corner of your eye and weakly smile. “Thanks,” you mumble to them with a hum, “I'll be... fine in a minute.”

“You sure?” Sans asked alongside crunching snow, “Puking is bad for humans too, right? Are you sick?”

“No,” you moan in discomfort as you try to stand back up, but your muscles still felt weak, “Not exactly. Not from a virus or anything at least. F-fear, stress, and some form of motion sickness caused me to lose my lunch. L-like I said; I'll... I'll be fine in a minute.” You take a deep breath and try to stand again, only this time your stomach lets out a loud gurgle before you can. Heaving out the breath you groan back to your stomach, “Oh shut up, stomach. Don't start complaining about being hungry after that.”

With another deep inhale a minute later you finally manage to muster up enough strength to get back to your feet. Frisk looked up at you with their brows knitted in worry. You gave them a weak smile as an attempt to reassure them. It doesn't do much however, because your still trembling a bit. Kicking off the snow from your shins you hear snow crunching. You even see Sans come into your peripheral and the opposite side of Frisk. He scratched the back of his skull and spoke up again, “Um, if you're hungry, or just want to sit inside some place warm for a while, there's this place in town, Grillby's. I can... I'll even pay for you guys. As thanks for doing all this for my brother.”

“That...” you start to protest but trail off. You want to decline, to not accept more help, but Frisk is with you now. You can't let your stubbornness get in the way of their well being. What if they want more food? And like Sans said at the very least you two can be inside for a while. Giving in you nod to Sans, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Thank you.”

“Don't sweat it,” Sans replies, then gestures with his head down the path. Your cue to follow. A minute or so into your walk and you three come up on some buildings and a large banner like sign before them. Upon passing the first post of the sign you felt your heart clench at what you saw. Christmas lights wrapped around the sign. The holidays seemed to have never left this snowy little underground town. You wished they did, it was the middle of April and you didn't need any more reminders of what is gone.

Wiping away the water gathering in your eyes you catch back up to Frisk and Sans. You didn't want them to notice your slowed pace at the sign. Pushing on like you never slowed to begin with, you start to become nervous as Sans leads you straight into the heart of town. It felt almost like walking right into some kind of kids' show with all the anthropomorphic rabbits, bears, and other woodland creatures.

Some of the animals... monsters? They're monsters too, right? Anyway, for the most part they didn't pay much attention to you or Frisk. There were some glances in your direction here and there, which made you a tad anxious, but nothing came of it. Any of the animal-like monsters that looked your way, quickly shrugged you off and went back to their day, something you were thankful of.

Up ahead, with a large pale furred bear kneeling in front o it, stood a lone tall tree in the middle of town. It was adorn with ornaments and lights, it even had a star on top. You avert your eyes form it as your party passes by, and pray that the dinner or whatever you were heading to wasn't decorated festively as well.

Shortly after passing the tree, Sans turns towards one of the buildings telling you to follow. Said flat roofed building had the owner's name, or most likely the owner's name, printed across the top of its front wall. Left of Grillby's front door, an open sign hung in the large window. All in all it looked kinda warm and cozy despite the cold outside, sorta like the rest of the town.

Sans entered first, sliding his hand across the door to hold it open while he walked inside. You came up behind Frisk to hold the door open after Sans, so that Frisk can enter, then yourself. Your nose crinkles at the scent hitting you upon entering the building. Through the smell of greasy food, alcohol cut the air and assaulted your nose. You try to hide your disgust for the scent and instead watch Sans greet the other patrons of the pub. On the plus side, it was warm.

While the skeleton talks to some dizzy looking bunny in one of the booths, you shift your weight from foot to foot and let your eyes wander. Two dogs in black hooded outfits sat at one of the tables. You also saw two giant executioner axes resting to the side of their chairs. A chill went up your spine and you have both yourself and Frisk inch closer to the skeleton by the booth.

“That some kind of weird dance craze where you're from?” Sans asked chuckling, “Come on, I got us a booth.” You look back to the booth and sure enough it was empty. The dizzy bunny never passed you to leave though. With a quick glance around the pub as you take off your backpack you spot a very uncoordinated rabbit shambling over to the bar. Shaking your head slightly, you slid into the booth as far as you can, placing your bag between you and the wall. Frisk follows your lead and crawls into the booth to sit on your left, while Sans got the other side all to himself. “So what do you guys want to eat?” Sans asked after getting situated, “Fries? Burgers?”

“I'm fine,” you answer turning to your backpack, “I don't want anything. Thank you though.” You pull out the red notebook and pencil and hand them both off to Frisk. They begin to turn the pages in the notebook to find one to use and Sans insists that you get something. That you don't have to worry about money. With a sigh you give in, “Fine. I'll get a small order of fries.”

You wrestle with the pocket of your pants a bit to get your mini tablet out. As you do so Sans asks Frisk what they wanted, which you heard them write down their answer. With the press of a button the screen lights up, displaying the time in the upper left portion. The time showed four, seventeen. Coming up on three hours after leaving the Ruins and you and Frisk are finally inside again. As weirdly long and short of a time three hours may be, what's possibly more strange to think about is that you and Frisk have only been down in the Underground roughly five hours. Conscious anyway.

You check the battery left on your phone before clicking the screen dark. The device had seventy-six percent charge left, not bad for being unplugged from its charger since seven, forty this morning. With the phone still in your dominant hand you fold your arms onto the table to use them as a pillow, groaning quietly as you lay your head down. Today had been so draining, you just want to curl up into a ball. You heard Sans ask for three orders of fries to some waiter or waitress that apparently came to your table. Sans asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which you asked for a glass of water, without raising your hand.

A second or two later you felt something poke your left arm. Lifting your head up some you see the notebook slid up against your arm with a few words circled, asking if you were okay. You manage a small smile at Frisk's question and sit back up. “Yeah, I keep telling you guys I'm alright,” you weakly laugh, “Quit worrying so much.”

“It's a good thing to have people worry 'bout ya,” Sans chimes in, “Means they care.”

You hum in recognition and glance down at the small crate of condiments sitting against the wall, looking them over as you thought. Salt, pepper, mustard, packs of sugar and other sweeteners, no ketchup though. Not like you were going to put any on your fries anyway. You were only going to nibble on them plain with maybe a bit of salt on them.

You chew the inside of your cheek a little before speaking up again. “Hey, um, Sans?” you meekly call out still blankly looking towards the condiments, “I wanted to apologize for... for how I acted when we first met. I'm sorry. I tried to say that earlier but-”

“You should take your own advice and not worry so much, buddy,” the skeleton across the table said cutting you off. You shift your line of sight from the small crate on the table to Sans. He's smiling, but it looks a little different now. It seems softer along with his gaze, which is odd considering he was just bone. “I get it. You got scared and were trying to protect your friend.” That soft expression left in an instant, replaced by a jovial one. You had an idea of where he was going with this, and you weren't exactly thrilled. “I _mustard_ admit, I really _relish_ that you're apologizing and not _a salting_ me.”

You groan at the punny skeleton as an attempt to stop his dumb jokes. Frisk meanwhile, only encouraged more bad jokes by quietly giggling at them, at least someone was enjoying them. Sans making jokes is a good thigh though, right? He seemed to accept your apology.

After Frisk's giggles grew silent Sans spoke up again, a lot softer this time so that the other patrons won't hear, “Well, you two got passed all the puzzles in Snowdin Forest. I don't know what my brother's going to do now. But if I were you, I would make sure I understand blue attacks.”

“Blue attack?” you repeat. Your eyes wander left to the table across from you occupied completely by dogs, and excluding the executioner dogs, they were all ones you've met on your way to town. And all of them used those weird light blue magical weapons. “You mean like those attacks those dogs used?”

“Yeah, the royal guard stationed here all utilize blue attacks, same as my brother,” Sans confirms, “So you know that if you see a blue attack it won't hurt you if you don't move. Here's an easy way to keep it in mind. Imagine a stop sign. When you see a stop sign, you stop, right? Stop signs are red. So imagine a blue stop sign instead. Simple, right?”

“Not really,” you interject, “It seems a whole lot simpler to associate blue with the cold and ice. You know _freezing_.”

“Whatever works for you guys,” Sans smile grew as he shrugged, “Ya know, I don't think I ever caught your names.”

“Never gave them,” you respond a bit more bluntly than you intended. Glancing downward and away from Sans you add, “eh... but, I'm... I'm Les.” A new feeling of anxiousness knotted in your stomach after you gave your moniker. Even if it wasn't your actual name you didn't want this practical joker poking fun of you. As Frisk no doubt jotted down their own name, Sans asked if your moniker was short for something. “It's just a nickname that stuck.”

The metal spiral of the notebook scratched the table as Frisk slid it over to Sans. You look over to the notebook pushed across the table and try to read the two lines on the new page. However the dim lighting and upside down handwriting from a second grader made it difficult to read. You notice at the edge of your vision Sans looked up from the notebook and up at you. “So your real name's Alice?”

Confused, you deny the question and slide the journal around to properly read it. Frisk wrote down, “My name is Frisk. Les also said her name is Alice.”

“Frisk,” you chuckle hanging your head, “I was comparing our situation to _Alice in Wonderland_. I didn't mean my name was actually Alice. Though if it was, this would be the biggest freaking joke the universe could pull on me.”

“What's _Alice in Wonderland_?” Sans inquired.

“Seriously!?” you groan bringing your head up and back as you lean into your seat, “I guess it makes sense that you wouldn't know, but ugh! It's an old book. A girl, Alice, finds a white rabbit in a waistcoat with a pocket watch saying he's late for something. Curious about the rabbit, Alice follows. This leads her to falling down a rabbit hole into Wonderland.”

“What happens after that?” Sans asked propping an arm up on the table and resting his mandible in his palm. He's still smiling. Does he really not know? 'Cause he makes a pretty good Cheshire cat.

“She continues to follow the white rabbit through Wonderland eventually making her way to the Queen of Hearts. They play croquet, there's a trial, then Alice wakes back up at the riverbank where she originally saw the white rabbit.” You answer with a small sigh at the end. You could draw as many parallels to the story as you wanted, but you didn't put any stock in all this being a dream. There was just something nagging you, telling you this was no dream, nor some kind of afterlife. This, all of this, was real. Bizarre, but real.

Sans gave a short response, “Weird.”

You hum in agreement, and heard footsteps approaching. Rolling your head a bit to spy who may be walking around you spot a well dressed walking inferno carrying a tray over towards your booth. It, he? stopped at the side and began placing baskets of fries in front of each of you. A glass of water was set in front of you, and as the hand retracted to retrieve another item from the tray you notice the yellow latex glove on his hand. You utter a thanks to the fire monster and pick at one of the steak fries to attempt to eat it. The fiery server placed a red bottle in front of Sans last, and the skeleton also thanked the fireball. “Thanks Grillby, I don't think we need anything else. Just put this all on my tab.”

The server, who you now knew to be the monster the building is named after, gave Sans a short nod and walked back towards the bar. Turning your attention back to your table and food, you find Sans asking if either of you want ketchup. “No thanks, I'm good,” you decline in tangent with Frisk as they shake their head. Sans shrugs and... brings the bottle of ketchup to his mouth. “What the heck are you doing?” you can't help but ask out loud.

You knit your brow and scrutinize the odd skeleton before you. He lowers the bottle of ketchup away from his mouth, traces of red staining his teeth, and looks at you relaxed and like nothing is out of place. Did he already drink some of that? Why? Also how? He's a skeleton. Sans casually replied, “Taking a drink of my ketchup. You said you didn't want any,” then took another swig from the condiment bottle. That's just weird. He's weird. This whole place is weird. Maybe you really are in Wonderland.

With a sigh of defeat you take a small bite of the fat fry. To your side Frisk, having taken off their makeshift gloves and pulled down Papyrus' scarf, swiftly munched away on fry after fry. You smile a little as you spy Frisk gobble down their basket of fries. While you were still a bit uncomfortable about taking this skeleton's offer, you're nonetheless grateful for it. Frisk is happy, warm, and eating, that's all you really want right now, their safety. The fact that you get to eat too is a nice bonus, but an unneeded one.

Doesn't really matter though. Sans insisted, and you get to sit inside for a while. You're in pretty good company with warm food. Maybe you should just accept what's been given to you and stop worrying. You'll at least hold off on worrying until after your fries are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Here's the real chapter 11 and as promised it's roughly 10x as long. the fake 11 was around 400 words, this one's 4,000. Save for the first two chapters, I tend to write around 10 pages per chapter in my notebook, which has been averaging to about 3,500 words a chapter when typed up.
> 
> Also as a side note, I've been playing that new Digimon game for PS4. Oh my goodness I love it. Nothing makes me happier than raising up those little guys and have them digivolve into pretty much everything they can be. Also... PALMON CAN DIGIVOLVE INTO WOODMON!!! You have no idea how happy that made me. I can have a little Puppetmon eventually. His name is Seedric. I love him. Also Impmon. I will have an Impmon. And Piedmon. And Veemon. And Lopmon. All of them. I will have all the digimon. I will love them all. You can't stop me. I have never been so determined to actually go out of my way and legitimately fill out the "DigiDex" and obtain every single one. But I will. I must. I already have all the Baby and In-Training leveled digimon registered, as well as most the Rookies and some Champions.
> 
> If you read all this, thank you. Now if you'll excuse me I have to continue writing the rough draft to chapter 14.


	12. A Hop, Skip, And A Jump Away From Pain

The snow crunched loudly as new footprints added to the two trails you and Frisk left behind. The air around you chilled after you both left the small town's boundaries. Not even ten minutes ago you were sitting in that pub, warm and full. All the fries from the table vanished into the stomachs of the patrons of said table, and whatever Sans' equivalent of one is. It was nice, and you dared to relax a bit. Then Sans had to ruin it by _suggesting_ you go to the outskirts of town and see his brother before he up and left the pub.

Now here you two are, trudging through the snow once more, about to have some kind of showdown with the heroic skeleton. What a day. With any luck, maybe you can talk your way out of whatever face-off that might happen. Papyrus is a nice guy... skeleton... monster... He's nice. You shouldn't worry too much.

Frisk's hand squeezed yours and they take a few quickened steps, trying to rush you along. Fog coming off the river beside the path began blanketing the ground, thickening as you went. Through the mist you can just spy a shape in the distance. Slowly, despite Frisk's wishes, you cautiously crept closer to the shape. As you two closed the distance between you and the shape it became a more and more defined silhouette.

When the tall figure in the fog spoke with a familiar voice, it halted you and Frisk in your tracks. “Humans,” your skeletal adversary started his monologue, “Allow me to tell you about some complex feelings. Feelings like...” Papyrus trailed off for a moment to gather his thoughts, “The joy of finding other pasta lovers. The admiration for others' puzzle-solving skills. The desire to have a cool, smart person think you are cool.” As Papyrus went on about these complex feeling, you found yourself ever so slightly smiling. He really is a sweetheart. “These feelings... They must be what you are feeling right now!!!” Wow... Way to deflect Papyrus. You shake your head some while he rambles on. “I can only imagine what it must be like to feel that way. After all, I am very great. I don't ever wonder what having lots of friends is like.”

Right now, you were grateful for the fog. It, along with Papyrus' questionable eyesight made it extremely unlikely for him to see you rolling your eyes. The skeleton went on talking as he had been, so it seemed you were right about him not seeing you roll your eyes. “I pity you... lonely humans...” You could make out through the fog Papyrus' silhouette shift to stand heroically. And when anyone stands all heroic like, as Papyrus is, you got to shout heroically. “Worry not!!! You shall be lonely no longer! I, The Great Papyrus, will be your...”

He stopped. Silence permeated the foggy air around the three of you. Papyrus' posture slouched and his head turned to the side. “No...” he muttered, “No, this is all wrong!” This is getting concerning. You take half a step back and hold an arm out in front of Frisk. “I can't be your friend!” The skeleton stated. Was it just you or did he sound a little dejected? Maybe it was just you, because he went back to his haughty tone thereafter. “You are humans! I must capture you! Then, I can fulfill my lifelong dream! Powerful! Popular! Prestigious! That's Papyrus! The newest member...” Papyrus trailed off for dramatic effect. Man does he know how to monologue. “Of the Royal Guard!”

What transpired next completely caught you off guard. You felt the uncomfortably familiar tugging on your soul. That's not what caught you off guard though. You see, Frisk ducked around your arm right as the tugging on your soul started. Then as they dashed forward to put themselves smack dab in the middle of you and Papyrus, the tugging on your soul stopped. With a quick glance down you spy no heart of any color floating in front of your chest. Frisk opted to fight Papyrus alone. Why? You had no clue. If you had to guess, it was because Frisk thought doing this could be fun.

“So you wish to face me in one-on-one combat?” Papyrus asked a bouncy Frisk, who gave an exaggerated nod in return, “Very well human. Prepare yourself!” A split second after warning Frisk, the fog seemed to lessen and bones came forth. Inching their way towards Frisk. At a snail's pace. Why were you worried again?

Frisk effortlessly dodged out of the way. Then again, so could a turtle with a bad leg. Papyrus sent a few more attacks, all at the same speed as the first. Frisk had no trouble with these either, and you used this time to carefully take a few steps to the right, away from the river, to better keep an eye on both of them at the same time.

Papyrus' attacks gradually picked up speed, and Frisk the little showboating acrobat, continued to gracefully dodge every bone sent their way. Frisk making no motion to attack back, prompted Papyrus to continue talking. “So you won't fight,” The skeleton stated in a manner akin to a cartoon villain from an old kid's show. Then again, Papyrus didn't really fit the role of a villain... rival! That's it. Papyrus spoke kind of like a cartoon rival character. “Then let's see if you can handle my fabled 'blue attack'!”

In the next moment Papyrus sent forth several bones to surround Frisk. There had to have been at least a dozen of them. Maybe even a baker's dozen. Frisk froze at the sight of the bones, all of them closing in on the child, getting closer and closer. And then nothing. Frisk didn't get hurt at by the bones. Every single one of the bones making up this attack was a light blue. Papyrus didn't even through in a normal one to make it a little tricky for Frisk.

All the cyan bones disappeared, not a one hurting Frisk. So when Frisk out of nowhere drops to the ground you felt your heart drop with them. They hissed in pain when a small white bone sprang up from the snow and struck them while they were down. “You're blue now,” Papyrus stated as Frisk struggled to their feet, “That's my attack!” When Frisk finally got back to their feet your eyes widened upon seeing their heart shaped soul. It no longer shined in that bright vibrant red, now it was a strong dark blue. You'd probably ask yourself a whole lot more questions about souls and colors that you can't answer, if you weren't so worried about Frisk's safety right now.

“Frisk!” you shout for them, beginning to scramble closer only for them to look over to you with a smile and give you the; okay, hand gesture. You freeze, not even taking two steps towards them, and stare at them bewildered. Frisk was having trouble standing yet they still wanted to keep going with this fight? Even after they've gotten hurt? Okay... it was just one hit. And, they'll be careful, you're sure of it. And if push comes to shove... if they get hit more, you'll step in, regardless of what they want. But for now, they can have this. Taking a step back you reluctantly tell them, “Alright.”

More bones were sent Frisk's way and whatever turning blue did to them, hindering the kid's evasiveness was a major side-effect. Frisk jumped, weaved, and dodged as many of the bones as they could, but it looked like they had an invisible elephant weighing them down. Papyrus merely chattered on about joining the guard and future popularity, while Frisk took hit after hit, becoming more sluggish after every one. This can't go on much longer. Frisk is weak. You should have put your foot down earlier and stopped this, dammit! Why did you let them do this!? Frisk is getting hurt! Frisk is getting hurt and it's all your fault! Stop this! Stop it now!!!

“That's it!!!” you roar out freezing the fight in confusion. In one motion you slip off your backpack and toss it behind you. Narrow eyes locked on the skeleton you speak aloud your demands, “You want to capture us both, then you got to fight us both. Frisk, get back, it's my turn.” With the order spoken, Frisk looked back at you, mouth agape, but your stern glance to them silenced any protest they had.

You were the first to move, making your way to Frisk's side, waiting for the others to make their moves. Frisk's once again red soul sank back into their chest just as you felt a pull on yours. With the blue attack of Papyrus' no longer affecting Frisk, they get back to their feet with little effort. For a moment they look up to you, brown eye full of worry, but despite their reluctance Frisk leaves your side, heading behind you. After they left your peripheral vision you shift your stare to the skeleton before you, standing maybe five or six yards away.

Papyrus stood at the ready. Glancing him over you note that he stood tall, well grounded, and ready to fight, but then you notice his face. Anxiety was written all over Papyrus' bony face. The thick bone above his sockets that looked to serve as brows knitted tightly and the toothy smirk he sported had no confidence behind it. There was also some odd sheen on his skull that you mistook for sweat, but that can't be right. Regardless, the skeleton mustered up all his confidence to announce, “Alright, bigger human, get ready.”

Your soul finally floated out from your body, red haze back again floating around the heart shape. A second later your legs begin to buckle. It became difficult to even move your arms. Every fiber of your being felt weighed down. Now you know why Frisk collapsed the instant this happened to them. You felt tempted to just give up and collapse right now. But you can't do that. You have to push through this. With a crooked smirk you egg on your adversary, “Hit me with your best shot.”

Bones sprang up from the ground, making a beeline for you. Your heart, the one still in your chest, began to race with adrenaline. You used every ounce of strength in you to fight against the invisible weights restraining you. Bone rushed you on the right, light blue and white coming in patterns. With limited speed and agility it was extremely difficult to dodge them. 

You hopped over a small white bone only to fall through a blue one, sending a jolt of pain to you. You weaved through the other bones as best you could to avoid them, but you still ended up brushing against a fair few of them, each one sending another small jolt of pain. At the end of the wave however, you still stood your ground. Feeling a tad cocky that you still stood, you huff out a laugh and taunt, “That all you got?”

“No,” Papyrus promptly answered, “far from it actually.” The skeleton rose more bones from the ground and sent them all rushing at you. You and your big mouth. Weaving through this wave, you stumble over some of the shorter ones a few times, each accompanied by a jolting pain. The next few short bone rush your way and in a panic you ended up practically skipping over them, only to trip over the last one. 

Falling face first into the snow, you struggle to even just prop yourself up on your elbows. With a low growl you pull your fingers into a fist, balling the snow under them when doing so. Your grip on the cold snow tightens with your building frustration, packing it tighter before melting it. You wanted to fight back. Taking hit after hit was wearing you out, and the only way you saw out of this fight was to get in a few good hits of your own. You still have your pocket knife in your pocket... No. Not that. Never that. It is a tool, not a weapon. You need something else.

You try to push yourself up again, the snow in your balled hands was starting to numb them, but you ended up stopping halfway off the ground. An idea came to your head, one you thought to be a good one. A crooked smile pulled at your lips at your idea. With a new found surge of moxie you gather as much snow as you can between your hands and get back to your feet. Crushing and packing it into an orb you swiftly craft your single shot. There's only one problem with the plan, your aim. Since you have trouble hitting the broad side of a barn, you need to get in a little closer to take your shot. You're not terribly far from Papyrus right now, around twenty feet away at most, but you don't want to miss.

More bones came your way shortly after you got back to your feet. You try your best to fight the current, holding the skin numbing snowball in both your hands close to your dark blue soul hidden in a now blue haze, but you're met with only mild success. Shorter bones hit your legs forcing you to literally jump over calcium hurdles. Landing was the hard part for you, the pain in your legs caused by the skeleton's attacks made you have to favor your right leg, and even then it wasn't much better. Your plan to get closer wasn't panning out, and you can't take many more hits, your legs and soul couldn't take it. Both felt like they could give out any minute.

Out of actions to take you pull back your dominate arm orb of snow in hand, and hurl the ball at the skeleton. The ball of packed snow flew through the air swiftly making its way to your target. A wet spat rang in your ears a second after chucking the ball, what you heard alongside the spat was a small shriek of shock. A nervous crooked smile was plastered on your face when you see what you hit. You aimed for his chest. The snowball hit his face.

“I can't see!” Papyrus shouted out in panic. Great. You didn't mean to blind the guy, just get the fight to start using snowballs, they hurt a lot less. At least he can't attack right now? “Help! I'm blind!”

“H-hey, calm down. Calm down,” you gently say to the panicking skeleton. Taking careful steps towards him you notice the weird weighted hold on your soul and body slacking some. Having an easier time moving you also apologize as you approach, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you in the face, Papyrus. I-I was aiming for your chest.” A moment later you stood next to the skeleton, your apology managing to calm him a bit. Tentatively you reach out for his forearm, gently resting your hand on one of the oddly black bones to let him know you're right by him. “Here, lean forward. I'll help you get the snow out.”

Hesitantly, he does as ordered and leans forward so that he'd be seeing the ground if there wasn't snow in his eye sockets. You let him know everything you do, telling him you'll bring your hand to the back of his skull and try to pat it with just enough force to dislodge the snow. He gives you the go ahead and you begin.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Papyrus made no sound of pain. If it did hurt him at all he easily tolerated it. Thump. Thump. Sloosh. A small chunk of snow fell out of his skull, causing him to rejoice, “Human! It's working!” Thump. Sloosh. Splat! A large portion of what was the snowball fell out of Papyrus' skull and rejoined the cold white powder on the ground. You take a few steps back just as Papyrus sprang upright again and violently shook his head to send the last of the snow flying once more, flecks of it hitting you. When he stopped Papyrus blinked a few times. A smile grew on his face as he announced, “I can see again!”

Your lips curl up the slightest bit into a small smile and you apologize again for blinding him in the first place. It was only now, in this moment of calm, that your rapid heart rate and irregular breathing from running was noticed. The cold air irritated you more now and sent you into a violent fit of coughs. Struggling for breath, you stagger back a few more steps wanting to distance yourself more from the skeleton.

You hear snow crunch for a moment in between coughs, then a more distant, rapidly approaching series of crunches. There is soon a tugging on the sleeve covering your right arm, the left forearm being preoccupied in shielding your sharp exhales from those around you. Turning away from the two you wave off Frisk, trying to let them know you're fine. However, the coughing fit hasn't stopped, it's barely even lessened.

Dragging in a large breath you fight down your coughs, but a few still manage to get puffed out. It was at that point you heard Papyrus speak up, “Humans, it is clear that you cannot defeat me. I can see you both shaking in your boots!” You aren't done, lungs be damned, you're not giving up. You'll keep pushing yourself until- “Therefore I, The Great Papyrus, elect to grant you both pity!” Wait, what? Then, as if to answer your unvoiced confusion, Papyrus added, “I will spare you, humans. Now's your chance to accept my mercy.”

“No more-” you cough regaining some semblance of normal breathing, “No more fighting?” Papyrus confirmed there would be no more fighting, which prompted your next question. “And you're not going to capture us?” Sounding utterly defeated this time, Papyrus confirmed that he will no longer try to capture you two. This eased your worries, only to have a new one quickly replace it. Why was he so sad?

The blue faded from your soul along with the haze, allowing the dull gray heart to float back into you. The skeleton took a couple of steps back away from you and Frisk before turning away. He let out this odd sound, something like his laugh but sad if not a tad bit whiny. “I can't even stop someone as weak as you two,” The skeleton lamented to himself. You try to keep your hum of annoyance quiet so he can't hear it. “Undyne's going to be disappointed in me. I'll never join the Royal Guard... and... my friend quantity will remain stagnant!”

Quick footsteps packed down the snow as Frisk made their way over to the sad skeleton. They slipped their sock mitten clad hand into the grip of Papyrus' red gloved hand. Shocked by the sudden hold, Papyrus looked down at the kid with wide eye sockets. Frisk, with their free hand, pulls down the orange scarf they got on loan, and smiles brightly to the sad skeleton.

That smile of theirs has yet to fail to bring a smile to your own face. Taking a few steps closer to the two, you speak on behalf of Frisk, “I think they want to be your friend, Papyrus.” Frisk, still smiling, nods up to the tall skeleton. “And if you're not going to try and capture us anymore, I'll be your friend too if you want.”

“Really!?” Papyrus asked turning towards you guys wanting to make sure, his face full of hope, “You both want to be friends with me!? Then, I guess... I guess I can make an allowance for you two!”

A small voice chimed into the conversation saying only one word, “Frisk.”

“What was that, tiny human?” Papyrus asked crouching down some to better hear them. Frisk repeated their name to the skeleton who parroted it back, “Frisk?”

“It's their name,” you clarify, “Mine's Les.”

Papyrus gave a quick nod and stood back up. “Alright then humans, er, Frisk and Les. Wow! I have friends!” The skeleton was positively beaming, same as the eight-year-old still holding his hand. It was the cutest, dorkiest thing you ever recall seeing.

You smile, chuckling a little at the two. The small laughs cause you to take notice of the small ache in your shoulder. You roll it in an attempt to alleviate some pain and while doing so you realize that with Frisk here by Papyrus, your backpack sat in the snow unattended. Turning around to check on it you're met with a bizarre and concerning sight. A little white dog had its front half in your back rooting around in it.

“Hey!” you shout to it. The dog must have known you were shouting to it, because its stubby wagging tail froze. “What the heck do you think you're doing?” The dog took its head out of your bag at this shout and looked back at you with the last package of unopened pop tarts held in its muzzle. You shout again at the dog, shooing it away as you break into a run to chase it off. It's a whole lot easier to move around now that your heart isn't blue anymore. The little dog hopped away from your bag, breakfast pastries still in its mouth, and bolted away. Great.

A couple of strides away from your looted backpack, something in the snow caught your left foot causing it to twist and misstep. Which in turn, caused you to tumble forward, face narrowly missing your bookbag. Face full of snow, you push your upper body up and slide your legs up to get up entirely only to halt your movement altogether when a sharp pain pulses in your previously caught ankle. Tears springing to your eyes from the unforeseen pain you hiss out a strained curse, trying your best to censor yourself last minute, “Mmmotherfa~h!”

“Human, are you alright!?” Papyrus called out to you over crunching snow. Carefully as you can, you slowly shift and roll over to sit in the snow, having a clear view of the two coming your way. You don't really answer Papyrus after moving to a seated position, instead you gingerly pull your left leg up closer to you and inspect the ankle. Lightly prodding at your ankle through the flimsy canvas of your shoe sends another sharp pulse of pain to the area and causes you to hiss once more. Papyrus called out to you again, now only a few feet away, “Human, Les, what's wrong?”

“Tripped,” you hiss in pain while continuing to check your injury, “My ankle hurts. I think I sprained it.” sprained? Sprained!? Ugh! Great! Perfect! You sprained your ankle chasing a dog. Awesome. How are you going to walk, let alone take care of a child while you're down here with a sprained ankle!? Upset by this new complication you whine, “Dammit!” dragging out the vowels when you do.

“Please don't swear,” Papyrus lightly scolded crouching down to be more at eye level with you. With as much worry in his voice as there is in his skeletal features, Papyrus asks, “What does that mean; sprained?” Poor guy, made friends with you and Frisk then not a minute later you get yourself hurt. Hanging your head and sighing in defeat you explain the injury to the skeleton and second grader. You told them that you landed on your foot wrong and pulled something, and now you can't, or at least shouldn't, put weight on it by walking. “You can't walk!? Fret not human, your very cool friend, The Great Papyrus, shall carry you!”

“You don't have to carry me,” you reply a tad flatly. Papyrus insisted on it though and reached out his arms to pick you up. You lean away from the skeleton, dead set on not being carried. His brow furrowed at your movement, but you speak up again before Papyrus had the chance. “I still have one good foot, I'll hop if need-”

You stop mid sentence crinkling your nose. You inhale sharply and then, turning away from Frisk and Papyrus, you sneeze. Sniffling at the disgusting snot dripping down from your nose, you hear the skeleton next to you cry out in terror. “Human! You turned the snow red!”

Red? What? You drag the side of your index knuckle under your nose wiping away the residue. Checking your hand after, a trail of red from your knuckle to your wrist was now present on your hand. “Oh, come on!” you whine at the sight of your blood. You tilt your head up and pinch your nose at the bridge. Papyrus once again insisted on helping you, much more panicked this time. Not wanting to hop around getting bloodstains everywhere, you cave and accept the heroic skeleton's aid. “Alright... just help me get inside somewhere,” you nasally reply, “And try to be careful, blood stains, I don't want to get any on you.”

The skeleton nodded to you taking note of the crimson liquid dribbling out from your nose between your fingers. He looped one skeletal arm under your knees, and the other around your middle back and waist. Papyrus gingerly picked you up out of the snow and carried you like a princess as quick as he could back into town. Frisk wobbled behind carrying your backpack and trying to keep pace with the skeleton. This is a very interesting start to a no doubt perplexing friendship, you're sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to the end of this little act! Just two more chapters. After Fourteen is out I may have to take a few weeks off from posting to write and stockpile more chapters. Hopefully won't be too long of a break.


	13. Homely Made Spaghetti

Cold air rushed over you, chilling your skin through the thin fabrics of your clothes. You would try to curl up of even cover your face with your makeshift scarf, but being carried back into the monster town by a panicked skeleton while your nose bled made doing either kind of impractical. You heard your bag shake viciously sending all the contents inside it bouncing around as Frisk tried to keep up with Papyrus. This has been such a peculiar day.

You lean your head back keeping your nose pinched and close your eyes. It was an attempt to both keep the blood from dripping through your fingers down onto your face and clothes, and to not have to see any and all monsters around staring at you. The only downside to tilting your head back like this was that now the blood dripped down your throat and on the back of your tongue. In all honesty though, you'd rather taste blood for a few minute than stain what few clothes you have. At least you had a mostly black t-shirt as your outermost shirt; however, the sleep pants around your neck would probably get stained first.

Suddenly you were bounced a few times before being tilted upward. Opening your eyes you find yourself in front of the arched front door of one of the town homes with a bland wreath hanging under the window. Papyrus tapped the bottom of the door a few times with his boot, calling out to his brother as he did. In this moment of pause, if it could really be called that, You looked behind the skeleton carrying you and saw Frisk catch up and stand at the bottom of the steps leading to the house. They looked up to you, exhaustion and worry on their face. Dammit, why didn't they just leave the backpack? They're already worn out from fighting Papyrus.

“Sans! Hurry up!” Papyrus shouted to his brother through the door. He kicked at the wood again, harder this time, “This is an emergency!” A moment later you heard the a click then the doorknob rattle and turn. As the door opened Sans asked where the fire was, but fell silent when he saw Papyrus carrying you in while you held your nose. “Sans, this is not a time for your jokes! The human is hurt!”

“It's not that bad,” you nasally interject, “I'm not a hemophiliac or anything.” Papyrus turned left after passing Sans carrying you to the nearby couch up against the wall. While he set you down long ways across the couch he asked, in as calm a tone as he could manage what that word was. “A rare blood disorder where blood doesn't clot normally,” you answer shifting carefully to sit properly on the couch, not wanting to have snowy dirty shoes on it, even though you should keep your left foot elevated. Once situated you ask for toilet paper, tissue, paper towels, or anything like that to catch and soak up the blood. Papyrus agreed to fetch something for you, and you meekly thanked him as he headed to the unknown room right of the TV and... was that a sock with sticky notes above it?

You heard the telltale sound of a bouncing bookbag as Frisk waddled over to you followed by a door whining and clicking shut. Frisk dropped the backpack close to your legs without having it bump up against you, then climbed up on the couch to the left of you. They sat on their knees facing you with knitted brows of worry and you imagined their lips in a tight light under Papyrus' scarf. They quickly began signing to you, frantically so, and you couldn't make out a word of it. You laugh a little and inform the kid you can't understand a word they're signing. While trying to get Frisk to slowdown, footsteps shuffle away from the door and over to you and Frisk on the couch. Sans, now standing in your range of vision, asked, “What happened?”

“I tripped and sneezed,” you reply choking on the blood pooling in the back of your throat. Sans didn't have time to make a remark, Papyrus quickly came back into the room holding a whole roll of paper towels. He ripped off like five large squares and handed them all to you, face still showing how concerned and unease he is. Lifting your handsome while still pinching your nose, you give him a weak smile and thanks in return. Taking the bunch with your free hand you dig your thumb into the seam connecting one of the paper towel to the rest of the chain and split it from the rest, bringing the single square up to your nose.

All eyes were still on you, and that was far from comfortable. You use the paper towel bunched up to your nose to hide some of your face as well as squirming back into the couch in a poor attempt to distance yourself. The skeletons you kinda get why they'd worry and act weird over blood and a pulled ligament, but Frisk shouldn't be so worried. Your nose wasn't even bleeding all that bad, it just about stopped bleeding now, and your ankle... Well, it still ached in pretty bad, but it isn't broken. “I'm fine,” you tell the crowd as you take an unstained side of the paper towel and wipe away the blood drying on your upper lip, “a bloody nose isn't going to kill me. Neither is a sprained ankle.”

“But human, er, Les, you said you can't walk now!” Papyrus whined.

“I said I _shouldn't_ walk, not that I can't,” you clarify sniffling, “It'll heal on its own in... ah... a little while.” You glance down to your foot as you trailed off. It could be a week at most you wagered. The thing was, you didn't want to answer. If you say that you would need around a week to heal enough to walk around without much problem, you're almost certain Papyrus would make you stay three weeks at the least. You passed an inn on your walk into town. You'll try and pawn off some of your things and barter a good price for a room to stay in for a few days.

“And how long exactly is 'a little while'?” you bit your lip at Papyrus' question. Great. He saw the holes in your answer. With a sigh you tell him that you might, maybe be recovering for a day, possibly. He wore a scrutinizing look at your answer before his expression softened. “Well, no matter how long it takes, you're welcome to stay with us, human friends. Right, brother?” The taller asked the shorter, who hummed in agreement with his sibling.

“That's really nice of you, but we can just stay at the inn. I don't want to trouble you,” you softly protest. However, Papyrus wouldn't have it, he said you two would be no trouble, that you were his friends and guests. There was a gentle grasp on your shoulder, shaking it a little to get you to look to your left. Frisk pointed down at the couch. This? That's what they were sighing, right? What about this? This what? This place? ...This place. Here. “You want to stay with Sans and Papyrus, sweetpea?” You ask to make sure you understood them. Eyes bright and focused, they give you a sharp nod and you sigh for the umpteenth time today, “Alright. Three to one, I know when I'm beat.”

“Wonderful!” Papyrus cheered, “Oh! And I know just how to celebrate your stay and our new friendship! With that spaghetti dinner I, Master Chef Papyrus promised you earlier! I'll get started on it right away!”

Not two seconds after saying that, the energetic skeleton rushed off into the back room right of the TV and straight across from the entryway. A room you can now safely assume to be the kitchen. Sans watched his brother leave the room, and when he was the only skeleton left, he took a seat on the couch to the right of you. Trapped with a hurt ankle between a kid and a skeleton, safe to say you weren't going anywhere. Sans propped his arm up on the armrest, holding the side of his face in his palm. He shifted to turn slightly toward you and asked, “So how long _really_ until you can walk again?”

Absently toying with and folding the disgusting used paper towel into the hold of one of the unused ones, you glance away from the skeleton out of defeat and answer, “Anywhere from a day or two, to a week. Depends how bad I really sprained it.” Tiny arms wrap around you just below your shoulders and hug you tight. Your lips curl upward and you bring and you lean left into them as an alternative to hugging, seeing as you don't want to get any of the blood on their clothes. Actually, Frisk is still wearing your clothes, aren't they? “You little worrywart, I'm fine. But what about you? You getting warm with all those layers still on?”

Frisk nodded and you give them a small smile. Taking another one of the towels from the shortening chain you dry off and clean as much of the blood off your hands as you can without water, before helping Frisk out of their extra layers. They pulled the hood of your jacket down off their head and you unwrapped Papyrus' scarf from their lower face and neck. With the scarf set aside, Frisk unzipped your jacket and handed it back to you. You leave the black and red hoodie in your lap while you help Frisk out of the two over sized shirts and sock mittens.

Frisk now out of all your clothes, you haphazardly fold the clothes to shove back into your bookbag. Frisk taken care of, you turn your attention to your clothes. You didn't have a whole lot of extra clothes, just a tee shirt, pajama pants scarf, and a few extra pairs of socks on your feet. Speaking of, your ankle freaking hurt. Your left shoe was starting to feel a tiny bit snug, so you ask the skeleton next to you if it was alright to take off your shoes and extra socks. “Don't see why you couldn't,” Sans answered with a shrug. As you remove your shoes to leave them by your feet Sans asks, “You wanna watch TV while Pap is cooking?”

There's TV down here? And shows to air on them? You guess if monsters can manage to have working cell phones, Television and stations wouldn't be too big of a stretch. Curious to see what monsters have for entertainment, you agree while you stuff your pants scarf into your bookbag, as well as stuff the wad of paper towel into the mesh side pocket with your trash from earlier. Not wanting to put the dirty jacket, socks in with your other clothes, you put them along with Papyrus' scarf in a ball on top of your shoes.

Sitting back up and looking toward the waking TV, something a little odd and unexpected came into focus on the screen. A boxy robot rolling around on its single wheel dominated the TV screen. The gridded display that could be argued to be the robot's face flashed red and yellow as it spoke. It had this happy and energetic tone fit for any game show host, but there was this weird suaveness to its voice too. All through a static-y echo-y robotic overtone thing, or that's what it sounded like anyway.

“Oh would you look at the time!” the calculator on a stick exclaimed a few seconds after... you weren't even sure what was supposed to be going on, but it was a couple of moments after Sans turned on. Though, now that it was mentioned, what time is it? You don't recall checking since you got to Grillby's. Squirming to fetch your phone from your pants pocket, the robot on screen rambled on as the show came to the end, you're still not sure what kind of show it's supposed to be though. Freeing your phone you click the screen to life and read the time, five, twenty-seven in the afternoon. Evening? At what point does it stop being afternoon and start being evening? “See you beauties next time!” the robot went on as you contemplated time, “Goodbye for now!”

Clicking your phone a second time to darken the screen you ask aloud, “What, or who, was that?” Sans, in response to your question, said some strange word that you can only assume to be the robot's name. You repeat the word as best you can, emphasizing it so that it sounded like a question, asking if you're saying it right. “Mettaton?”

“Yeah, he's a celebrity down here,” the bored looking skeleton on your right explained with a lazy shrug, “Dr. Alphys made him.” That second name sounded familiar. Asking aloud why the name sounded familiar got another answer from Sans. “She's the one that made the puzzle you said was from a game you played as a kid.”

“Oh, right,” you mumbled nodding after your memory was jogged. Glancing back to the TV you see Mettaton still dominating the screen with credits rolling off to the side of him. You narrow your eyes on the relaxing robot TV star, noting all the little details that can be broadcast. There was something about that robot that reminded you of something, but you push back those thoughts for now to study and admire Dr. Alphys' other work. “Wow, she built a robot and it... he... he's completely sentient and self-aware?” On your left, what passed for Sans' brows furrowed. He said that Mettaton is definitely self-aware, and you look back at to the TV bewildered. This Dr. Alphys lady made a sentient robot, she's got to be brilliant. “That's awesome. Kinda scary, but awesome.”

“A robot's scary?” Sans asked ghosting his fingers over the buttons of the remote he held in his bony left hand. You say that robots can be scary, depending on a lot of factors, to which Sans just shrugs at your answer as a form of acknowledgment. He doesn't press any further on the topic of robots for now, so you both go back to watching TV alongside an already zoned out Frisk. You also could have swore you heard sizzling nearby as well.

The next show started and like the last one, or the ending of the last one anyway, the rectangular robot was front and center. “Hello beauties!” Mettaton greeted his audience, “And welcome to; Cooking With A Killer Robot!”

“See!” you exclaim to Sans, unintentionally causing him to jump the slightest bit, “That's why robots can be scary. He's even the one saying it. 'Killer' robot.” In a low mumble to yourself you add, “I always knew it would be robots, not zombies.”

“Nah,” Sans shook his head with a relaxed smile, “Mettaton may be showboating and arrogant, but he hasn't actually killed anyone. Besides, he means killer like, awesome or cool.” You shoot a skeptic look the skeleton's way before slowly going back to watching the TV. You're just glad that robot is off wherever and has no clue you and Frisk are here. The last thing you want is to be chased by some bloodthirsty robot and baked into something.

“Alright my lovely viewers, before we can get started on that delicious slug pizza,” Mettaton continued on with his cooking show. Slug pizza though, that sounds anything but delicious. “We need to gather up our ingredients! We'll need flour, tomatoes, cheese, and a quart of fresh slugs for the basics; and for an extra kick some carrots and yogurt to complement the slugs.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” you groan the expression you've heard your grandfather groan thousands of times throughout your childhood, pinching the bridge of your nose as you do. There was so much wrong with that list of ingredients you didn't know where to start. That would be like only using sugar, milk, and eggs to bake a cake, you'll only end up with disgusting sweet milky scrambled egg mess. The skeleton to your side asked you something, but all you can really do right now is shake your head in disbelief as the robot begins to create his bastardization of a pizza. If only your grandmother could see this, she'd have a bigger fit than you.

A not so pleasant scent wafted into the living room causing you to scrunch up your nose at it. The smell was acidic and smokey and vaguely like tomatoes... oh. The sauce was burning. You look sidelong at Frisk to see if they noticed it too, and sure enough their nose was scrunched up at the pungent scent as well. The skeleton on your right however appeared unphased by the odor. Does Sans' not have a sense of smell? Either that or he's grown accustom to the scent of burning tomatoes.

The first commercial break rolled around shortly after the scent of burning tomatoes. The first commercial promoted some MTT-Brand thing, attraction slime? That sounded extremely bizarre. What was even more bizarre was that every single person in this fake scenario for the commercial was played by Mettaton in different “outfits.” Really they were just different hats and wigs, the robot didn't even do different voices for the cast of ten people. Who needs ten characters in an ad selling a product that, judging from how it's being pitched and the name, is supposed to help people get dates? Whatever. Anyway, after that bizarreness, Papyrus came back into the living room expertly carrying four plates of spaghetti.

He handed one off to each of you on the couch, keeping the last for himself, and pulled one of the mismatched chairs from the table against the wall to sit close to his brother. Once everyone was seated with their food, Sans wished for a good meal in French, no doubt intending “bon” to be “bone.” Papyrus, on the other hand, whined and groaned at his brother for the dumb pun. During their exchange you fought to hold your tongue. Almost as a reflex you wanted to speak aloud the variant of the phrase that you grew up with. The one you always heard your grandmother, and even your mother on occasion, say before a meal. Instead you silently say the phrase to yourself and take the fork half buried in the noodles to begin twirling it.

Keeping in mind that the sauce is most likely a little burnt and the noodles look overcooked, you cautiously take your first bite. The taste that hits your tongue is, well, hard to describe exactly. The noodles are puffy and chewy, definitely overcooked, also somehow the blandest thing ever save for crunchy burnt parts. Meanwhile the sauce has a very sharp burnt taste to it with no seasoning whatsoever. It was like he just crushed a bunch of tomatoes and threw them in a pot to burn. And that was what you could put words to, there were smaller oddities in the dish and its taste that, as previously stated, difficult to describe. All together it was bad, practically inedible, but strangely enough there was a slight... familiarity to it. The familiarity you found in the dish was what probably kept you from making a face. It was still bad though.

“So humans,” you heard the skeletal chef call for your attention, “What do you think of my spaghetti?” Keeping your gaze fixed on your lime green plate filled with bad spaghetti you hear the wood of the chair shift and creek the slightest bit. You imagine that Papyrus leaned forward to get a better look at you and Frisk. To your left you catch sight of one of Frisk's hands moving away from their salmon pink plate. They gave Papyrus a thumbs up, but their hand looked kinda shaky.

Twirling more noodles onto the fork you give the chef an answer that sounded almost hallow to your ears, “It tastes like how my mom used to make spaghetti.” That statement wasn't a lie to flatter the skeleton either, your mom was a terrible cook. She found all sorts of ways to ruin meals, a fact that baffled not only you but your entire family. Your grandmother, your mom's mom, is an excellent chef, she even made a career out of it and owned a restaurant; but cooking was just something your mom never got the hang of. With a heavy heart you take another bite of the mushy, chewy, oddly crunchy, bland, burnt spaghetti, finding the tiniest hint of comfort in the familiar taste.

“Really?” Papyrus chirped, “Wowie! Your mother must be an amazing cook then!” You didn't respond. Only take another bite to give yourself an excuse not to talk. You weren't going to cry. Not now. You've cried enough today. No more tears. Just... Just don't talk about it and eat. Everything... Everything will be fine... no more tears. No more- “Les?” Papyrus called out to you, concern evident in his tone. You squeeze your eyes shut. Dammit. No. More. Tears!

“I'm fine,” you murmur reflexively after choking down your last bite of spaghetti. Blinking a few times and getting your next bite wrapped around your fork you add, “and yeah, my mom's cooking was... something else.”

You begin to raise the fork to your mouth only to freeze when a weight leans into your left side. Frisk, having a plate of poorly cooked spaghetti in their lap and unable to properly hug, does the next best thing and nuzzles into your side. You shut your watery eyes tight once more to stop any tears and wrap your left arm around Frisk to hold them closer. You mumble out loud that you're okay, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince everyone around you of that or yourself. You unwrap your arm from Frisk a moment later, letting them sit back up and finish their plate of questionably edible pasta. An awkward silence hung over the four of you after that, disrupted only by the robot on TV.

Mettaton had just put that so-called pizza into the oven set to a temperature of a four digit number when you finished around half the plate of food. You let out a sigh for both your full, and slightly upset, stomach, and exhaustion over the robot's abhorrent cooking methods. You look down at your plate and absentmindedly twirl more noodles onto the fork, but make no attempt take another bite. The silence between you four was broken when Papyrus dared to speak up, asking if you were full already.

“Yeah,” you quietly respond setting the fork down on the plate, “Guess I'm not as hungry as I thought. Thank you for dinner though.”

“You're very welcome, human friend,” Papyrus said regaining some of his cheerful tone. He stood, setting his plate on the chair he previously occupied and offered to take your plate to the kitchen. Frisk and Sans both asked for Papyrus to take their empty plates to the kitchen as well by means of offering them to the standing skeleton. Rolling his eye sockets... somehow... the impossibility of stuff like that was really starting to bug you now. It was like an optical illusion, or something. Anyway, Papyrus halfheartedly rolled his eyes at the two and stacked the plates under your lime green one. He asked if they wanted seconds, to which the other couch occupants on either side of you swiftly declined. Unphased by the two turning down seconds, Papyrus went back to the kitchen.

“You want to talk about it at all?” Sans asked not two seconds after Papyrus cleared the threshold to the kitchen. The question sent a sudden pang to your heart the instant you heard him say; talk. You know full well what he referred to, and you're positive he knows that you understand what he was getting at. Playing dumb would only be an unwise choice that Sans could see right through and could potentially upset one of the skeletons letting you stay here. So instead, you stay quiet, not wanting to give any kind of answer. You felt too numb to do so anyway. “I hear talking about problems can be good for ya. Don't hafta if you don't wanna though.”

You shake your head. No. You don't want to talk about it. You miss her so much, you don't want to talk about her being gone. Sans didn't press any further, but Frisk did, right into your side again. Hands free from holding a plate, Frisk hugged you. They pressed themselves into your left side, trying their best to comfort you.

A small breathy laugh gets huffed out your lungs. This morning you were hugging Frisk to calm them down, now they have to keep hugging you to keep you from completely breaking down. You shift and turn more toward the child and hug them back with tears pooling behind tightly shut eyelids and a weak smile on your lips. “We're two really beaten and broken humans, huh?” You half-laugh-half-sob to the child in your arms. Frisk nods into your shoulder, the cloth of both your shirts starting to absorb their tears. Gently stroking their back you murmur, “It's okay. Everything will be okay.”

An unsure sound came from the other side of the couch, as well as a light grip on your right shoulder. “H-hey buddy. Guys. Cheer up, okay?” Sans sounded so uncertain in his attempt to comfort you and Frisk, but it was an appreciated attempt, “Things might have been bad, but they'll... Things will...”

“Things will get better,” Papyrus finished Sans' sentence. Sniffling, you look over to where you heard Papyrus' voice. He stood by the TV, his skeletal features showing a weak smile and brows knitted with unease, “Whatever may have hurt you, humans, Sans and I will be here for you. Because that's what friends do. Right, Sans?” The shorter skeleton said that his brother was right causing Papyrus' smile to grow some. With your lips starting to curl upward too at the Skeleton's smile you give the brothers a softly spoken; thank you. Papyrus brightened a little bit more at that, even ebbed some of the worry on his face.

Frisk hugged you tighter, nuzzling their head into your shoulder. Reciprocating the tight hold for Frisk, you soon find an outside force pressing not only Frisk closer to you, but Sans as well. The goofy hero skeleton had you all in a group hug, and you can't help but give a small laugh and smile. You felt warmth, oddly enough. Both the skeleton at your back and the one holding the three of you together on your right radiated a warmth in much the same way you or Frisk do, despite them being just bone. It was comforting nonetheless.

In that moment, you felt something swell in your heart. In your soul. It was as warm a feeling as those around you squished together in this group hug. Ever since the new year you had been separated from family and friends, hurt and isolated from compassion. Now, for the first time in months you're among people you gladly call friends. You aren't being harassed, falsely reprimanded, assaulted, or ignored, and neither is Frisk. In the span of a day, your life spiraled out of control and landed you in the right direction. Grief took everything away, and now an eight-year-old kid and two odd skeletons gave you back a small light of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! One more chapter for the first act to go! I'm in the middle of typing it up and hopefully will be up next week around this time. Then shortly after that I will be on vacation for a week. Riftrax Live, baby! I'm so excited! Though I doubt I'll write much while I'm on this short vacation, I never do, but I'll take my notebook anyway. Either way, hope you guys are enjoying the story so far.


	14. Hush Now, Don't You Cry

The poofy armrest against your mid and lower back helps you to sit up. Your left leg lay outstretched and propped up on a couple of fluffy pillows loaned to you by the skeleton brothers, which the shorter of the two sat at the other end of the couch closer to the staircase. Papyrus and Frisk sat on the floor backs to the TV, mulling over a question you asked them. Both had been thinking it over for about a minute, Papyrus drumming his gloved fingers on one of his crossed legs while Frisk tapped the eraser of their pencil against their lip. You sigh out a small yawn as you hear Papyrus repeat your question to himself and Frisk, “Once in a minute, twice in a moment and never in a thousand years?”

Shortly after the group hug earlier, things calmed down so to speak and your mood brightened. Everyone could relax and went back to watching TV. By then it was six o'clock, and Mettaton's show for that time slot was some kind of game show. The questions asked on the show were perplexing and it almost felt as if the show had no real set rules or anything. Mettaton and his shows seem very strange to you. However, one of the questions he asked for some kind of bonus round in the first five minutes of the show was more along the lines of a riddle. You quietly mention to the others how it reminded you of the conundrums a middle school teacher of yours would give your class. Saying that quickly caught Papyrus' attention, who excitedly asked what they were. The first one you told was of the farmer trying to cross the river with carrots, a rabbit, and a fox. After a few minutes of the group trying to solve that one the TV was turned off and it's been off since.

“This is a very tricky question, Les,” The puzzled skeleton mumbled as he worked on finding the solution to the second riddle.

“It might be easier if you write the question down,” you reply in a small yawn and dig your phone out of your pocket. You heard pencil lead scratching paper a second later, putting a smile on your face as you click the phone to life. The battery was below seventy percent by this point, but all you needed it for was the time; almost twenty after six. The way you felt it should be at least four hours later than it was. Then again, last night you went to bed around midnight and have been up since four in the morning. Clicking the button once more to darken the screen you spy Papyrus and Frisk looking over the written out question. A smile grew on both their faces right before Papyrus blurted out the letter M, and you told them that was correct.

The heroic skeleton let out a boastful laugh accompanied by a smile just as bright as the one on the face of the child next to him. After ceasing his short burst of laughter Papyrus asked for another conundrum. You think for a moment, recalling another tricky question and think how to properly phrase it. A minute or so later you spoke, “Okay, here's another. Two spies stake out an enemy base entrance to figure out how to get in. A soldier goes up to the gate and the guard there says, '12.' The soldier answers, '6,' and gets let in. Another soldier goes up to the gate and the guard says, '6.' The soldier says, '3,' and gets let in. One of the spies goes up to the guard who says, '10.' The spy answers, '5,' and gets sh-... uh, hauled off for questioning... Anyway, the second spy figures out the code and goes up to the guard. The guard says, '8.' What does the spy answer to get let in?”

Everyone else in the room takes a moment to process your proposed problem. Even Sans seemed to be mulling over the question after just staying relatively quiet for the first two riddles, maybe he's never heard this one before. You smirk a little to yourself as the three struggle to figure out the pattern, you recall having trouble with this one too when you first heard it in algebra a couple years back. As the three struggled to find an answer you click your was-once-a-phone phone back to life and swiftly unlock it from muscle memory. You absently start browsing through your apps, a good chunk of them have been rendered useless without any internet to connect to. Video streaming, bank account, delivery pizza, email, web browser, all useless right now. Too bad you didn't download any movies or more games onto your phone when you could. Though, it would be kinda funny if you could actually still order a pizza, it should be free if it takes longer than forty minutes to get here right? Then again, it would no doubt be cold by the time you got it. Plus you aren't exactly hungry right now after, Grillby's, poorly cooked spaghetti, and blood not sitting well in your stomach.

“I don't understand,” Papyrus groaned half to himself, “If half the number was right for twelve and six, why not for ten?”

“Come on bro, you don't really want her to spell it out for you already, do you?” Sans asked. Sans' wording caught you a little off guard and got a small laugh out of you. Clever bastard already figured it out and was making puns about it. Of course, you laughing at Sans' veiled hint left the other two still solving the problem confused.

“Sans, why did she laugh?” Papyrus asked his brother with slightly narrowed eye sockets, “Did you make a pun?”

“What an _odd_ thing to ask,” Sans replied with a bright smile stretched wide on the lower half of his skull, “Why would you _even_ think that?” Papyrus wasn't happy. He said his brother's name in a warning and unamused tone, while you just shake your head the slightest bit at your hosts. You see Frisk in the corner of your eye scribbling down something onto the notebook as the skeleton brothers bicker over puns. They walked on their knees over to the couch flipping the notebook over when the got to your side to show you what they wrote.

Twelve and six were written out in the middle of the page with an arrow pointing from them to the numbers 6 and 3 respectively. The third number written out was eight with an arrow pointing from it to the number 5. Smiling to Frisk you nod and tell them that's right, which catches the attention of the brothers. “What's right?” Papyrus asked looking away from Sans to you, “What's the answer?”

“Five,” you answer simply, “E-I-G-H-T, five letters.”

“Ah-ha! I knew it!” Papyrus exclaimed pointing a finger at his brother, “You did make a pun about the riddle!” The skeleton sitting on the floor huffed at his brother on the couch, who in turn was grinning like an idiot. “Well, since the answer was given away what's another riddle or 'conundrum' that you know, Les?”

“Actually,” you reply with a weak laugh, “I can't really recall any others right now. Other than one from a movie, but that one doesn't have an answer.” Curious from your mentioning of movies, Papyrus asked what human movies were like; going on to add that some time ago the brothers got their hands on some boxes and albums full of DVDs and VHSs originally from the surface but they never got around to watching any of them. Letting out another small yawn before answering, you say, “Um, depends. There's a lot of different kinds of movies. Comedy, romance, drama, fantasy, sci-fi, movies for kids, movies for teens, movies for adults.” With a small shrug you add, “Not to mention that other countries have their own takes on genres.”

“Sounds like you've got a lot more variety up their,” Sans replied with a small yawn of his own, “We have like twenty-something Mettaton movies and they're all the same.”

“Twenty-seven, and that's not true, Sans,” Papyrus countered, “The fourth, seventh, thirteenth, and twenty-first movies were all radically different. And the third and fifteenth movies were drastically shorter than the others. The fifteenth movie was only a ninety minute shot of Mettaton.”

You duck your head down a little and chuckle. This is just absurd, The Underground's main source of entertainment was one robot. Papyrus said that he and Sans have a bunch of movies from the surface, right? Maybe you should ask to look through them. Getting your laughs down to soft giggles you cough and speak up, “Hey, can I see what movies you got? I can try and pick us out something good to watch.”

Your offer caught the interest of everyone in the living room. Papyrus quickly agreed before Sans of even Frisk had a say in the matter, but it didn't appear like either were opposed to the idea anyway. The taller skeleton on the floor sprang to his feet and retreated to the kitchen once more. You heard the click of a door and a few moments later Papyrus returned with an armful of DVD albums. He set them down gently next to your seat on the couch, handing the last one to you directly. You give him a small smile and thanks before unzipping the album to see the movies it housed.

A good chunk of them were blank discs with only the title, or titles in some cases, written on it in black sharpy. So chances are whoever originally owned these didn't acquire the movies through legal means. Didn't really matter much right now, if it played, it played. Now what movies are here? You flip through the pages of discs and find ...a whole lot of nothing. A large portion of these movies look like they would scar poor Frisk for life, maybe even the skeleton brothers. You sure as hell aren't letting them watch Land Of The Dead.

Three albums looked through and they were all a bust filled with movies for adults, but you got one more to look through. You aren't giving up on finding a movie yet. You unzip the last album and find, what do you know! The first two discs are kid's movies, genuine copies too, though they're of really kiddie things Care Bears and some Hello Kitty thing. Turning the page the next four are, oh sweet! Is that the Digimon Movie? You haven't watched that in years!

Pulling the blank disc out with only; Digimon Movie, written on it you call for Frisk's attention. “Hey Frisk, you ever heard of Digimon?” Frisk shakes their head; no, to your question and you smile, “Alright, then how about the Digimon Movie? I remember it being the first Digimon thing I ever really watched.” Before you could ask for Papyrus to play the DVD Sans asked what the movie was about. “It's a kid's anime. The series is about a group of kids and their digimon partners saving the world!” Then Sans asked what a digimon is. “Digimon, Digital Mon-...” you stop and nervously laugh, how the hell did you forget what the 'mon' in digimon meant? “Digital Monsters.”

“Digital monsters?” Papyrus quizzically parroted, “And you said it's an anime? This sounds like something Undyne would watch with Dr. Alphys.”

“It's like, one of my favorite shows as a kid,” you admit smiling and glancing away from the group, “There's so many different kinds of awesome digimon in the series, and the soundtrack in the movie is like super cool, and-”

“Well, if you like it so much, I guess we should watch it.” Sans cut off your gushing. Heat rose to your cheeks, embarrassed by your rambling. You're a little worried that your blushing will get your nose to start bleeding again. Either way, it seemed like everyone was willing indulge you and watch the movie. You handed the disc off to Papyrus who takes it over to the TV. He knelt down, opening a cabinet of the stand the TV sat on and put the disc in the DVD player housed there. It looked like a few game consoles were in there too. If the skeleton duo never bothered to watch any of the human movies they had it seemed unlikely that the consoles got much use either.

A moment later, Papyrus scooted back from the TV to return to his spot on the floor next to Frisk. The screen was a vibrant blue for a second before turning black with white text in the middle informing the viewer that the film has been modified and formatted to fit the TV. Then the screen cut to a... close up of the poster? With a countdown on it? And... oh great, this has that weird short before the movie. Why would whoever burned this DVD leave that weird short tacked onto it?

The camera pulled out to show the three gray-scale skinned kids whose hair and clothes were all still vibrant colors. The main girl was super scrawny, which would have been fine for a normal cartoon, but with a somewhat realistic looking face, she looked even scrawnier. “Les, are you sure humans aren't descendants of skeletons? Those humans look rather skeleton-like.”

“I'm sure,” you say with a small smile and huff of a laugh, “It's just the style of this weird cartoon short. Any human that scrawny and pale is malnourished, and quite possibly a vampire.” You yawn through your smile after answering, an act that finally prompted Papyrus to comment on your yawning and state that it was rather early to be tired. “Hey, I've been up since four in the morning,” you defend yourself with yet another yawn, “I barely got those four hours of sleep, and I had a very rude awakening followed by a day of running around. I have every right to be tired.”

“What kind of 'rude awakening'?” Sans asked as the main girl of the short warded off other movie goers from taking the seats she's saving for her friends. You tell him it was the kind of rude awakening were your no-good demon child of a cousin plays a prank on you and super glues a bunch of junk in your hair to make you look like Medusa, forcing you to cut off practically all your hair as the only way to get all the pipe cleaners and plastic snakes out. “That prank doesn't sound funny at all, but uh, who's Medusa?”

“She's someone in Greek Mythology,” you answer slipping your finger under your hat to scratch just above your right ear, “She's said to be this ugly human-like thing with snakes for hair. One direct look into her eyes and you turn to stone... And my cousin wonders why the rest of the family never takes them on vacations when they pull crap like that.” You yawn once more, louder and more drawn out than the last ones, and nestle down into the couch cushions. It felt kinda lumpy, but after three and a half months on futon, the skeletons' lumpy couch was like a cloud.

The bizarre short that served to only to confuse Frisk and Papyrus finally ended, and the Fox Century logo played. It was replaced a few seconds later by the Fox Kids logo and the edited theme to the show started up, bringing a wide smile to your face. You can't help bobbing your head to the song and barely whispering out the lyrics as still, rather poor quality pictures of the main digimon float around on screen as the opening credits play. You heard Papyrus quietly grumble as the song played, the first few lines of the song making 'digi' puns before just tacking it to the beginning to every other word.

A picture of the white cat digimon gatomon swept by and pounced in a way at the screen leaving it black for a moment before a girl's voice asked, “Who says there's no such thing as monsters?” Immediately after saying that the movie showed of a large stripped orange dinosaur walking over two small children towards an equally large green bird. The narrating girl who you already know to be Kari, further explains, pretty much everything; who she is, the group she's a part of, that kid Willis in America, the two parallel worlds. Almost everything that a newcomer to the series might have a question about, Kari answered in her narration. Which thankfully meant it was unlikely for anyone to ask you a whole lot of questions during the movie.

You watched with eyelids drooping as the very young kids in the movie got and dealt with their first digimon. It was difficult to tell for sure, but from Frisk's bouncing as the large egg hatched on screen you would wager that they were watching with bright wide eyes. Your eyes however were getting harder to keep open by the second, so you just stopped trying. You closed your eyes and listened to the movie instead, but that too became difficult to do. The words became distant and the mental images you had to accompany what you heard grew blurred and darkened, until all of your senses were shrouded in the hazy void of sleep.

It was peaceful in the nothingness. No worries. No pain. No heartache. Just an inky void that allowed your mind, body, and soul for that matter, to rest. It was so nice and calm like this, a small part of you wanted to stay like this forever. Life had other plans however. There was something in the nothing. Movement, shaking. Sound, a name.

In an instant the dark cloud of sleep vanished from your mind provoking you to jump in shock and utter a curse. Your eyes open wide yet darkness is still all you see. You felt warmth around you, but to your right the warmth was much stronger. Sound came from that direction as well. A single word? No, it was the moniker you asked to be called. The quiet voice called your name a few times, meek and pitiful sounding. It took you a moment before the groggy aftermath left behind be sleep clears enough for you to gather your thoughts. “Wha... what is it, sweetpea?”

The air became silent for a few short seconds, then broke at the sound of small sobs. New found worry chased off the last of drowsiness from your thoughts. Pulling the crying child closer to you as you snuggle into the crook at the back of the couch, you hush and try to calm Frisk. You ask again what was wrong, and this time you're given an answer in a whimper. “I had a nightmare,” You shush the scared child, stroking the back of their head to comfort them. “I was all alone,” they went on in woeful sobs, “This big scary shadow told you and Sans and Papyrus all to leave me with it and- and-” Frisk never finished. They hiccuped and sobbed louder into your shoulder, and you wrap your arms a little tighter around Frisk to let them know you're right there.

“Shh, it's okay,” you softly coo, “I'm right here. You aren't alone.” Their sobbing quieting bringing a small sad smile to your lips having gotten Frisk to calm down some. Combing through their hair you also carefully lift your left leg to readjust it back on top of the pillow that shifted in your sleep. Everything settled again, you thought back to your own childhood when you had a nightmare and couldn't sleep. Maybe it could help Frisk go back to sleep.

“So,” You softly hum before starting your abridged tale, “There was this guy that lived in Ireland, he was born and raised there. When he was in his early twenties he took a vacation, or holiday as he would say, to Italy. He visited a lot of cities there eventually making his way to Naples. While there he visited a pizzeria, where he saw a very beautiful young lady. Now the two didn't hit it off right away, but they did end up falling in love. They moved to the U.S. shortly thereafter, got married, and had their first kid. Their son was a very fussy baby and wouldn't easily fall asleep. One day, the Irishman just going about his day, heard a song. He admired the sweet soft notes of it and felt the lyrics practically speak right to him. Having a good ear and memory for music, later that night when he was putting his son down for bed he sang that song for the baby. He's son fell right asleep, so from then on he would sing that every night to his son. Then his daughter, then his next son and so on. He sang that song for all six of his children whenever they couldn't sleep or had a nightmare. He'd even go on to sing it for his grandchildren.”

“How does the song go?” a tiny voice next to you asked. You smile a bit despite knowing no one can see it and make them promise to go back to sleep if you sing it. Frisk yawns nodding into your shoulder, and you take in a quiet breath.

_Over in Killarney, many years ago_  
Me Mother sang a song to me in tunes so sweet and low,  
Just a simple little ditty, in her good old Irish way,  
And I'd give the world if she could sing That song to me today. 

_Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,_  
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,  
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
Hush now don't you cry.  
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,  
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
That's an Irish lullaby. 

You sniffle lightly and take in a small shaky breath as you sing. It hurt. Your heart ached so badly as you sang those lyrics engraved into your memory. But as much as it hurt, you felt a twinge of happiness as well. Your grandfather sang this to your mother, and she to you. This song means a lot to you, and trying to help Frisk with it made singing this bearable.

_Oft, in dreams I wander To that cot again,_  
I feel her arms a huggin' me As when she held me then.  
And I hear her voice a hummin' To me as in days of yore,  
When she used to rock me fast asleep Outside the cabin door. 

_Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,_  
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,  
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
Hush now don't you cry.  
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,  
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,  
That's an Irish lullaby. 

You hear soft shallow breaths coming from next to you after you finish. It worked, Frisk was asleep. It brought back a small smile to your lips as you wipe your eyes of tears. You pull up the blanket draped over you and Frisk and plant a kiss on top of Frisk's head. “G'night sweetpea, sleep tight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that ends the first day and first act of the story. Originally I was going to have them watch Shrek, but after rewatching that, it seemed too crude for a first movie. So with my recent obsession with digimon... plus it's an anime. Now the song, Irish Lullaby. From the beginning I wanted to have a scene like this in the story, and while looking for lullabies I found this little gem that fit in with the story a little too well.
> 
> I'm thrilled to have all you stick with me throughout this first act; fourteen chapters that span over a day. As I mentioned last chapter I'll be on a mini-vacation this upcoming week and doubt I'll be working at all on the next act. When I do get back, I plan to write the first few chapters and get them typed up so I can publish them on a fairly regular weekly schedule as well. I don't know when that will be, but I'm hoping to start posting again by the end of May or early June.


	15. Wakey Wakey, Eggs And Spaghetti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha... End of May. I was way off...
> 
> But! I have a few more chapters stockpiled so it should be steady for a few weeks. Thank you so much for your patience, I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

You were left alone in the dark. There was no sound. There was no light. There wasn't even thought. There was barely even you. What there was, was nothing. Time was difficult to measure, if it even existed at all in this nothingness. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days even? It was impossible to tell for sure. There was nothing to compare it to. There was nothing at all. That is until high pitched chirps, beeps, and rings all shrieked in your ear jarring you back to the waking world.

You jolted from under your covers due to your noisy alarm set to get you up for school. Ugh, School. Before you could properly groan at your stupid alarm, ignoring it and your responsibilities to trudge off to that institute of misery, something to your side slipped off your bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. Knowing instantly who the only possible culprit who was startled by your alarm could be, you grit your teeth and growl to that spoiled middle schooler as you push yourself up off your cheap mattress. “Dammit you little shit, what are you doing in-” you stop mid sentence as you take notice of the unfamiliar room. Confused you glance down and spot someone, but they looked younger than that devil child cousin of yours and- oh crap, “Frisk! Oh sweetheart!” You hastily lean over the side of the couch to attempt to scoop up the child on the blue and purple carpeted floor. You apologize profusely to Frisk, asking if they were alright. Frisk only murmured one thing to you; loud. Oh. Your alarm was still going off. Oops.

Letting them go you push yourself up and fish your phone out of your pocket. Two slides of your finger across the screen, because the first didn't even register with the lousy thing, and your phone stops playing that loud as hell 8-bit version of a vocaloid song you set as your morning alarm. “What in the Underground was that!?” came a panicked sounding voice from a nearby room. A second later a tall skeleton in an untied cooking apron runs out from the kitchen. “Humans, do you normally play loud chirpy music this early in the day!?”

“Um, no. It's just, uh,” you glance away from the two as heat starts to radiate in your cheeks, “That was my alarm to get up for school. Sorry, I forgot to turn it off. Don't exactly need it anymore.” Some of your embarrassment subsided after giving your simple response, purposely not naming the 8-bit version of the song you chose as your alarm. It's a really stupid pick if you think about it as your wake up alarm day after day, especially at the beginning of the school year in August. Shoving your embarrassed feelings to the back of your mind, you shift to sit upright and return to helping Frisk up off the carpeted floor.

Sitting them on the edge of the couch by your right hip you pull Frisk into a hug offering more apologies for the rude awakening and mistaken identity. Small arms wrap around you which you interpret as an accepted apology. There was a tiny cough before the skeleton in the room spoke up. “Well, I'm glad you're both awake now. You even woke up before I finished breakfast.” Your stomach twisted into knots at the mention of a meal. With the idea of food at the forefront of your thoughts you take notice of the anguished cries of your stomach not wanting to relive the pain from last night. Choking back some of your worry you ask Papyrus what it was he was making for breakfast. A bright smile on his face he answered with what you feared the most, spaghetti. You force yourself to put on a smile at his response, one that you're willing to bet looks rather uneasy, right before he added, “And I thought I, Master Chef Papyrus, would treat you humans and try making something new as well, it's french toast!”

What a strange combination of food. Your stomach and taste buds were going to be holding a grudge against you for a very long time. They'll just have to deal with it though. Papyrus and Sans have both been very kind and generous towards you and Frisk, even with a somewhat rocky beginning stemming mostly from you and your defensiveness. Their kindness and generosity was something you've become extremely grateful for, and it's one you hope to be able to return in some way.

Frisk had an excited look on their face at the mention of french toast and started to quickly move their hands around. From your vantage point of only seeing Frisk's right side and back added an unnecessary challenge to deciphering what was being said. Something about themselves, that's all you could really get. Papyrus wasn't fairing much better, he scratched the back of his skull and apologized to Frisk for not understanding. Puffing out their cheeks the kid hopped off the couch and walked over to your backpack that had been moved over by the TV. On the floor by the bag rested the red notebook and pencil Frisk had been using yesterday. They snatched both items up off the floor and jotted down something in it before showing it to the skeleton in the pastel pink apron.

Beaming, Papyrus responded, “Of course tiny human Friend! With the Great Papyrus instructing you, we shall make the most delicious breakfast ever!” He proceeded to laugh his signature boastful laugh before reaching around his back to tie the frilly apron with what looked like white polka dots on the pastel pink. The apron was rather cute looking, but clashed with the red of Papyrus' gloves and boots. It also almost looked like he wasn't wearing anything with it, the only reason you knew he was wearing clothes was due to the large orbs covering his shoulders. That and also if the rest of his bones aren't actually black and that's just some kind of under layer he's wearing.

Wait, was he wearing the same thing from yesterday? Granted, you are too, but you slept in your clothes and don't have a whole lot of alternative outfits. Speaking of, you need to change out of them. Sleeping in your clothes always makes you feel grimy. A shower would be nice too. All this sounds like loads of fun to do with a sprained ankle.

“Is your foot better now, Les?” Papyrus asked dropping his boney arms back to his sides with the apron now tied. At his question you shrug and pull the blanket off your legs before carefully turning to put your feet back on the ground. First your right, no problems there, but that's not the one you sprained. Then you put your left foot down and pain. Yep. Nope. Still hurts. You let out a small hiss and see the skeleton frown. “Seems not,” he murmured not all that softly, “I wonder if I should call Undyne and stay home to-”

“No.” You interrupt the worried skeleton, “It's a sprained ankle, Papyrus, not a compound fracture. You guys have already done enough for me and Frisk, you don't need to skip work because of me too.” Papyrus was hesitant to agree but did end up doing so. He also asked what a compound fracture was having never heard of it before. Now it was your turn to be hesitant. “It's uh... it's not fun. One of my uncles... uugh,” you trail off and shiver in discomfort as the mental image of that horrifying injury comes to mind, “You don't want to know, especially right before breakfast. It's not pretty, trust me.”

“Oh-kay,” Papyrus softly groaned in mild disappointment in very much the same manner as a child denied something would. The disappointment didn't last long, a moment after he straitened up to stand tall with a toothy grin, “Frisk and I will start breakfast than. Will you be alright out here?” You nod with a yawn and only ask for one of them to bring your backpack over to you, which Papyrus promptly does. He sets it next to you on the couch and you thank him for it, to which he responds, “You're welcome,” with a bright smile and guides Frisk to the kitchen after they set their notebook down in the dining table right of the kitchen's entrance.

With a long yawn you arch your back to stretch your tired muscles. Shifting in your seat you lean down to dig through your backpack, mind beginning to wander. How long did you sleep? You passed out around... What? Six thirty maybe? And your school alarm is set for six forty-five in he morning. That's twelve hours. You've been asleep for roughly twelve freaking hours. Damn. On the bright side you caught up on some much needed sleep. No nightmares either, that's always nice. While pretty much all of the last three and a half months you've had poor sleep riddled with grief induced nightmares, the last weeks the problem had been something else. The mother and child from Hell you've been forced to stay with had been louder in the mornings and often purposely woke you up. Freaking jerks. You're glad to be rid of them for good.

For good...? Was that really true? You pray that it is. You had a sneaking suspicion that they aren't going to put any effort in finding you, let alone go to a cursed mountain to look. But what about you and Frisk getting back to the surface? It had to be possible. Right? Toriel said all monsters were trapped here by a magical barrier. That's still a strange concept to find out is real. Magic. Magic is real. That's weird. Anyway, you and Frisk are humans, so you should be fine, right? Find a way out, cross the barrier, go back to the surface. Easy-peasy.

Grabbing the case housing your dual screened handheld gaming device you hear crashes and splats coming from the kitchen. You breathe out a long sigh and shake your head at the pair in the kitchen as you set your bookbag back down on the floor. Wanting to enjoy your last few minutes with a settle stomach you open your case and pull out a glossy light apple green DS and turn it on. Holding the device in one hand you slip the case with the rest of your games back into your bag. Your new game was starting up, showing the various companies responsible for the making of this game, and you're happy to sit down and play it. Okay, so the game isn't brand new having come out last year. You were just glad that they made it for DS too and not just the 3DS. Though the 3DS one is updated and has more to the thing. Lucky jerks who can afford nice things.

The game's title pops up on screen bringing a smile to your face. Mew Mew Kissy Cutie: The Eternal Crystals. When they first announced that one of your favorite childhood anime series was getting three new games and rebooted anime that will follow the manga much more closely you got so hyped. The game you have, The Eternal Crystals, is the first game of the list and sadly only goes over the first couple of sagas. You don't even get all of the Dragon Pearl Guardians, just the first four. Right now you haven't gotten very far in the game, only just recruiting the second guardian the raccoon tailed thief Chitter in Mint Village.

Getting to the menu you see your save, two empty slots below it, options below that, and erase left of options. Your thumb was just about to push on the A button when you heard a click somewhere overhead. Glancing up you spy a railed walkway with two doors and a framed picture of a bone between them. The plain door to your right above the kitchen opened with a sleepy looking Sans shuffling out and rubbing at his eye sockets. You bid the short skeleton a good morning and he responds with a yawn and wave of his free hand as he slowly makes his way to the stairs.

“Sleep well?” you ask glancing from the skeleton at the top of the staircase to your DS now loading the save. He yawned again saying that he did. Chuckling he asked how you slept, stating that you beat his record and slept a heck of a lot longer than he normally does, including his naps. Heat rose to your cheeks instantly and you chose to keep your eyes glued to your game. In a grumble you answer, “Yeah? Well, I haven't had a good night's sleep in a while, probably since December. So yeah, I'm going to sleep in quite a bit first chance I can.”

“It's barely seven, that's not exactly sleeping in. Unless you're my bro, then it would be,” Sans countered as he got to the last step. You grumble to him again saying that he knew what you meant and try to focus on the fight between Mew Mew and a little evil shadow enemy. Sans chuckled at your frustrations before taking the seat across from you on the couch. You chanced a look over to Sans out of the corner of your eye. He wore his blue hoodie with gym shorts and pink slippers. Was he wearing slippers yesterday? Given his laid back nature it wouldn't shock you. You don't really recall what shirt he wore yesterday either, so if you had to guess, Sans was wearing the same thing from yesterday as well. Does anybody have more than one outfit? “How's your foot?” Sans asked cutting you off from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You blink trying to process the sudden question, “Oh, um, marginally better. Probably starting to change color and bruise, haven't checked though.”

“So... no walking then?” Sans asked leaning into the plush couch arm. You shrug and say that you definitely won't be going outside, but you should be fine moving around the house a bit. You add a soft murmur to yourself voicing your annoyance about wanting to take a shower and change your clothes. “Oh, speaking of,” Sans chimed in, “Pap put all those clothes you had by the couch and shirts 'nd stuff you shoved in your backpack all into the wash before we went to bed. He probably changed them over when he got up this morning, so they should be done be now.” He did your laundry? When the heck does Papyrus get up? You ask Sans when Papyrus got up and he answers, “One.” One? Papyrus gets up and one in the freaking morning!? Geez! How much sleep does he get? 

Before you can question Sans further about his brothers sleep schedule there was a sharp cry from the kitchen followed by a bang of some large metal pot or something against either a counter or the floor. Both of your heads snapped to the kitchen and Sans promptly shouted out to his brother asking if he was alright, he sounded, kinda panicked. Papyrus called back a split second later, “Sans?” The cooking skeleton stepped out to the living room with a smile growing on his red sauce splattered face when he saw Sans next to you on the couch, “You're up and out of bed! Wonderful! Breakfast will be done shortly, Frisk has been helping me with it so it will be extra grand!” As if summoned by the mention of their name little Frisk stepped out of the kitchen wearing half the ingredients. Red sauce in their hair, flour or powdered sugar clinging to their clothes, and literal egg on their face with a huge grin underneath it all.

“Oh my God,” you laugh at the sight of the kid, “Frisk! You're a complete mess! I hope you realize you're getting a bath after breakfast.” Their dopey grin soured to a pout after you said that, you on the other hand just huff out another laugh, “What? You thought I'd let you go around all day looking like you lost a fight with a mixing bowl?” Frisk swiftly nods, smile returning, and you shake your head, “Uh-uh. You're bathing after breakfast. And please wipe that egg off your face before you get salmonella.”

Frisk crossed their arms and puffed out their cheeks, clearly against this whole bathing and getting clean notion. Not wanting to hear anymore from you about bathing Frisk stuck out their tongue and retreated to the kitchen, leaving behind a very confused Papyrus. You chuckle a bit more and the weird kid. Were you that bad about baths too at that age? You honestly don't recall. You lean back and run your fingers through your short hair, taking note that your hat barely clung to the back of your head at this point. Adjusting it with one hand to its proper place you hear Papyrus excuse himself from the room and return to the kitchen where he would finish making breakfast with a now grumpy eight-year-old. Maybe Frisk will be in a better mood with food in their belly.

There was a small laugh coming from your left. Looking over at Sans he gives you a tired smile and says, “I know you said you guys only met yesterday, but it doesn't seem like it.” You offer back a weak smile and a shrug. They say tragedy brings people together, though you're pretty sure they mean a tragic event to a group of people versus two kids with train wreck lives meeting each other. You stare blankly at your running game, not putting any kind of command into it to progress in any way, and start to get lost in thought when you hear Sans speak up again, “Like last night, I heard you both up and talking when I was gonna get a midnight snack.”

He heard you last night? Then that means, “You heard me singing!?” You ask somewhat hushed with heat rising to your face. He just had that stupid smile on his face with that stupid relaxed gaze and nods. You huff out a small growl and focus on your game to ignore the annoying skeleton to your left.

“You know that was the second time I heard you singing, right?” When the hell could he have possibly heard you sing before? Was he stalking you or... He was. Outside the Ruins. You sung then too. Blood hotter than lava pooled in the veins in your face. Your shoulders grew tense and every fiber of your being wanted to smack this stupid skeleton upside the head.

You pretty much refused to talk anymore with Sans for the rest of the wait for breakfast. He seemed relatively okay with lack of further conversation however. He just chuckled once after your face reached the temperature of the sun then leaned more into the couch arm. You sneaked quick glances over to him as you played your game, it looked like he nodded off. Or maybe he was feigning sleep, using it as an excuse so there wouldn't be an awkward silence between you two. Whatever. You mentally shrug and return full focus to your game, grinding more levels for Mew Mew and Chitter on some trees and rocks corrupted by evil spirits.

By the time you get your two party members up into the double digits Papyrus and Frisk came out from the kitchen, each holding two plates. Both had also thankfully cleaned off their faces, though Frisk still covered in some kind of powder and had red sauce drying in their brunette locks. You quickly save your game while Papyrus scolds his brother for being asleep. As Sans rouses from his brief nap you turn off your game and accept the plate of food from a still pouting Frisk. Not wanting to sit by you, the little jerkwad took a seat on the floor in front of your backpack with their back to you.

Rolling your eyes, you look at the food on your plate. As promised spaghetti and french toast sat on the white plate. Taking the fork buried under the pasta pick through your food to see what all you're up against before you dare take your first bite. Spaghetti took up most of the plate covered red sauce with lumps of what looked to be scrambled eggs and chopped sausage in the mix. The french toast rest at the edge of the plate, looking a tad burnt and swimming in syrup. A generous amount of the sugary viscous liquid seeped from the toast pooling under the noodles. Your stomach is never going to let you forget the pain it is about to feel.

Psyching yourself up as you twirl the noodles onto the fork, you brace yourself for your first bite. A chill crawled up your spine when the food hit your tongue. Uh-uh. Nope. Not good. Not at all. Spit it out. Spit it out now. Ugh! Just get this nasty taste out of your mouth already! With every basic instinct telling you to do otherwise, you swallow the bite of breakfast spaghetti. It tasted like sugar and wet charcoal. One bite down, way too many to go.

“So humans,” Papyrus speaks up from his seat on the floor across from Frisk, except he chose to face the couch, “With you still unable to walk, you'll have to remain here.” You look down at your food and meekly agree with him, wishing that you didn't end up being a burden on the brothers. You so wanted to be out of their metaphorical hair by now. “And since you seemed so adamant that I not call Undyne and stay home to help take care of you, I'll just have to give you my phone number instead so that you may call me if you need anything!”

He flashed a bright smile and laughed, managing to curl the corners of your lips with that. “That sounds great, but my phone doesn't work down here.” A little saddened as well as curious Papyrus asked how that can be since he's seen you using it. “Well, it still works, but not everything. I can't make calls or text, or go on the internet.” You see Frisk set their plate to the side and start squirming. A moment later they pulled out a dinosaur of a cell phone out of their pocket and held it out for Papyrus. “Oh yeah. Forgot about that one. Frisk's phone one can get calls.”

Papyrus set down his plate and took the cell extended to him. While punching various buttons on the ancient device he said, “I could ask Undyne to ask Dr. Alphys to get your phone working when I meet with her around noon.” You make an indecisive hum and think over the proposition. You didn't exactly plan on staying down here very long, and this sounds like it might be along the lines of rooting or jailbreaking. If it is, then you'd need to get a whole new phone once you get back to the surface. On the other hand, you could call Frisk while you're down here should you two get separated. Plus having your phone tinkered with might make tracking you on the surface harder to do. And if you really need a phone once you get back you can just get a real cheap one. What the heck, you'll get it looked at. Accepting his offer you carefully fish your phone out of your pocket and hold it out for him as well. Papyrus handed Frisk back their phone and took yours.

The rest of breakfast turned into a game of twenty questions with puns and an upset Papyrus mixed in. All the while you inhaled small bites of syrup-e, tomato-e spaghetti trying to have it make as little contact with your taste buds as possible. The questions tended to focus on human TV and movies; Papyrus wanting to know more about the movie from last night and what else there was. Most of the questioning came from the skeleton brothers, and the answers almost exclusively came from you. Frisk only writing there answer for a few questions. The brother's questions were ones like; Why are human movies so much shorter? What's your favorite movie? What kind of TV shows do humans have? Do humans have a robot superstar like Mettaton? Eventually cooking shows came up and Papyrus jumped on that.

Soon though, when a little over three quarters of the food on the plate made it to your stomach, Papyrus glanced over to a clock on the wall above the dining table and announced that he and Sans need to be leaving. Papyrus took his and Sans' empty plates to the kitchen and Sans, somewhat slowly, got up off the couch and walked over to the door. Sans looked like he was lightly kicking at something when you heard a door open from the direction of the kitchen shortly followed by a soft clank of metal on metal. Papyrus came back into the living room a moments later, red orange scarf now wrapped around his neck.

“Alright humans, we'll be leaving now,” Papyrus stated once he got to his brother's side, “Normally my patrols go until four in the afternoon, but I planned on skipping lunch today and hopefully meet with Undyne earlier, so we should be back home around one instead. The bathroom is off the kitchen next to our pantry should you need it. And just call if you need anything else.”

You smile at the worrying skeleton and give him a small hum in understanding. “Got it. We'll call if anything happens, but Frisk and I will be fine. So stop fussing and get to work before you're late or something.” Papyrus nodded before starting out the door with Sans. You traded goodbyes and see-you-laters, then front door shut leaving you and Frisk alone in the house. You let out a loud yawn and set your mostly empty plate down on the couch cushion beside you so you can stretch. “Alright smalls, time to get you cleaned up.”


	16. Gonna Have A Bath Time

You lean against the back wall of the kitchen, between the bathroom door and what look to be a tall cabinet. You didn't notice any shelves of upper cabinets in the kitchen, Papyrus probably stores most of the dry ingredients and whatnot in there. You'll have to check what all there is when you make lunch. You still may have a difficult time walking on your hurt foot but you'll be damned if you and Frisk have barely edible spaghetti a third time in a row. Speaking of Frisk, you knock on the light brown door of the bathroom and ask if they've gotten in the shower yet. Good thing you already used the toilet, they're taking forever. Waiting a moment with strained ears you hear a quiet groan through the door.

Telling Frisk you're taking that as a yes, you turn the doorknob from where you leaned and lightly push the door open. With the door open you could now clearly hear the sound of clanking pipes and water staring to fall from the shower. Through the shower curtain you can just barely make out Frisk's silhouette and on the floor by the red semicircle rug for the shower lay a small pile of dirty clothes. Carefully walking into the bathroom, taking it slowly so as not to suffer too much pain, you make your way over to Frisk's clothes. “Alright sweetpea, I'm gonna throw your clothes in the washer. I'll run it on cold so you can still have hot water, but don't take too long it will still probably get scalding hot from time to time. So don't have it in full blast.”

They gave a small hum as you crouch down balanced mostly on your right foot and scoop up the clothes. There was soft clinks coming from Frisk's jeans. You'll have to empty the pockets before throwing them in. Everything up off the floor you carefully stand back up and head to the small laundry room left of the shower. Opening the lid to the washer you toss in all of Frisk's clothes save for the pants. You check all the pockets of the pants, pulling out the phone from one of the back ones and a good sized handful of gold coins out of one of the front pockets. Holy crap! How much money did this kid have? You'll have to count it later, for now you drop the quarter sized coins on top of the dryer next to the phone and throw the pants in the washer. 

You glance around the small room looking for detergent for the wash. Above the washer and dryer was a shelf with clean towels, wash cloths, and most importantly a large clear plastic tub with; detergent, sharpied onto the front of it in all caps. Pulling the half empty container down from the shelf you set it down on the dryer to make it easier to open. You grab the scoop laying on top of the grainy powder and shovel into the detergent. Considering that the load of laundry is very small, you don't put all that much detergent into the washer. Closing the lid to the machine you give the kid one last warning before you start the washer.

There was a small yelp from Frisk a second later but that was it. Since you're already in the laundry room you open the door in the front of the dryer and see that it was empty. Weird. Sans said Papyrus did your laundry. You look around the room again and spot a basket on the floor against the wall with your black and red hoodie sitting on top. Going over and grabbing the basket you set it on top of the rumbling washer and start pulling out clothes, folding them, and setting them on the dyer top. Turns out, Papyrus washed all your clothes, even the things you didn't use as extra layers yesterday, including the spare pairs of underwear and extra bra you packed.

Once everything was nice and folded you placed the empty basket back on the floor and begin sorting your clothes. Frisk needed something to wear after they get out of the shower, so you set the largest shirt you brought on top of the other machine with a pair of your underwear and your pajama pants. Tomorrow, sprained ankle or not you need to go out into town and see if you can get some new clothes for Frisk, but for now they can wear your clothes. You pull down a towel and set that on top of their outfit for today. Next to their borrowed clothes you start placing the things you'll be wearing after your bath, your spare jeans and bra, a pair of socks and underwear, the last of the four shirts you have, and your hoodie. That left only three pairs of socks and four pairs of underwear to put back.

You pick up all the leftover clean laundry and head back to the living room to stuff it back into your bookbag. Passing through the bathroom now filled with warm steam you tell Frisk you'll be leaving for a minute to put some stuff up, also that you set aside some clothes for them on the washer under the towel. You pointed out to them that they'll have to borrow a pair of your underwear as well, earning you a sound of disgust. “Oh hush,” you ordered as you were at the threshold to the kitchen, “They're clean. We'll go out tomorrow and go clothes shopping for you, seeing that you have a good amount of gold coins moneybags.”

Frisk grumbles as you close the door to the bathroom using the back of your hand with a fist full of socks to pull the doorknob towards you. Shaking your head at them you take slow calculated steps back to the living room. You take a seat on the couch when you get there and lean over to shove the two hand fulls of laundry down to the bottom of your backpack. It was so much less puffy without all your clothes stuffed inside it. Maybe you should pull out a few unnecessary things and make it lighter as well.

Scooting over to the middle of the couch you pull up your backpack and have it to the right of you. Leaning it towards you so that you can get a good look inside, you take out the largest thing you see in there and groan. You forgot you left a textbook in your bag, no wonder it was so flipping heavy. You place the textbook with the cover picture of a snowy furred puffball seal on your lap after noticing the loose papers barely sticking out from the top. You already knew what it was, they were your homework assignment that is never going to get turned in now. All that work for nothing. You open the book to the pages pressing the lined loose papers and glance over your writing. The class, Monday's date, and assigned question numbers all were scratched into the upper right corner of the paper under your last name. Taking a deep sigh you close the textbook and set it over to your left. You're curious to see if you can maybe sell it to a monster for some gold. It being a biology book in pretty good condition it's got to be worth something. 

You look back into the main pocket of your bookbag that's starting to look very empty without your biology book in there. From here you pull out a few more things. Your wallet, hairbrush, and water bottle all leave the comfort of your bookbag and join the book on your left. That being a pretty good start to clearing some space in your bag, you set the much lighter bag back on the floor and get up. Balancing all the items on the hardcover of your book you carefully take your things over to the table. 

Once you got over to the table you set your things down on the half further away from the kitchen and notice something left of you already on the table. On a small plate covered in a rainbow of sprinkles sat a little rock. That was a tad odd, but honestly not that much more bizarre than the sock on the floor with a trail of sticky notes above it.

With your things now on the table you head back to the bathroom taking your hairbrush with a funky pink design back with you. It was quiet passing through the kitchen but getting to the bathroom door you just barely heard the sound of still running water. You knock twice on the wooden surface and shout to Frisk that you're coming back in. After a brief moment of waiting for a response and hearing none, you open the door and step inside.

A wall of heat and steam hit you once inside the bathroom. Normally the feeling sauna like heat and steam from the bathroom won't be so bad, but over your skin and through your clothes that felt a tad grimy due to running around all day yesterday, it didn't make this the best feeling in the world. You fight through the mild discomfort and slowly hobble back to the laundry room, noting that you really need to find some kind of crutch to help keep weight off your left leg. As you pass the shower tub combo to go into the laundry room you mention to Frisk that you can brush their hair after they get dried off and dressed. You set the brush down on top of the clothes and towel you set aside for the kid on the washer then hop on top of the still dryer to wait for Frisk.

You look around the small laundry room in your wait, or at least you would have if there was anything else in the room. With the shelf behind you, washer on your left, and basket and hamper on your right, you've seen everything this room has to offer. You don't even have your phone to mess around with to kill time. Well, you _could_ go back to the living room and grab your DS, but... more walking doesn't sound too fun, you want to stay off your feet as much as you can. There's also the phone you do still have. You could call Papyrus and see how he's doing, though he left not all that long ago and calling just because you're bored might bug him. Probably not bug _him_ , but the same would most likely bug you if you were at work.

So you sit and resign yourself to zoning out while Frisk finishes their shower. It's bizarre to think what all has happened in the span of a day. Your hair had to get cut, you were informed you won't be allowed to graduate, you vandalized a certain someone's car before skipping school... You forgot about that. You didn't leave school grounds right after you cussed out your horrible first period English teacher Mr. Boarning. After leaving his class in a fuming rage you went to your locker to dump of the unused note-and-textbooks for that class. Upon opening your locker many folded paper notes tumbled out. You knew you shouldn't have read any of them, that they would all have nasty horrible things written on them, but you still grabbed one still in your locker and unfold it.

_Nobody likes you_

_Kill yourself you ugly whore_

_**I bet your mom jumped in front of that car just to get away from you** _

You grit your teeth as you recall the comments on the notes. That was the real breaking point. That was when any care you held onto about your education or future flew out the window. The first note was right. Nobody there cared for you, which was fine because you cared for them just as much. Having finally given up on your high school career, while everyone else was filing into their next class, you went to the back doors by the gym and band classrooms. Outside there was a small part of the parking lot, mostly for faculty, and then the street. You cut through the lot heading for the road, but stop as you pass one car in particular. A sleek black sports car sat in one almost two of the parking spots, and was by far the nicest one on the lot. You glared at the car, tears gathering in your eyes. That car was the last thing your mother saw.

Pure hatred took over and in a blind rage you attacked the inanimate object. You slam your fists down on the hood of the car over and over, teeth bared in a snarl and tears gathering in your eyes. You couldn't stay long, you were already lucky that the stupid car alarm wasn't going off. Jackass had probably forgotten to turn it on. You took a few steps back, sniffling and fighting back more tears, and spot a large chunk of loose pavement on the ground. You picked it up and chucked it at the windshield. The pavement chunk shattered against the much stronger glass leaving only a couple of cracks in the windshield.

You sighed and looked up towards the ceiling. Yesterday morning was a living nightmare, but that was behind you now. Now, you and an eight-year-old kid are under a cursed mountain in a world of monsters. You huff out a laugh and crack a small smile. Monsters isn't a very accurate word, at least not for the ones you met, they've been pretty nice. Okay well, there was the indecent with the carrot back in the Ruins but that was kinda on you. You didn't know what the hell to say to it and getting pelted with flying produce wasn't helping your growing frustrations. There was also that damn flower. Smug son of a bitch, if you never see it again, it will be too soon.

The water stopped, the sound disrupting your train of internal insults directed at that horrible nightmare weed. Carefully you slide down off the dryer and head toward the tub grabbing the towel for Frisk as you pass it. You push the towel pass the curtain for Frisk to take while looking away from the shower. The towel was taken out of your hand and accompanied by a quiet thanks. You smile at the kid despite them not able to see you and cautiously walk back to the laundry room to wait there as Frisk dries off behind the curtain. Once you got back to the dryer instead of hopping back to sit on it you just lean against it facing the wall opposite the entrance with all your weight on your right foot.

You hear the shower curtain pull back a minute later and wet foot fall slap against the checkerboard tiled floor. Over the churning washer you could just make out the sound of rustling fabric a moment after the footsteps stopped. Then came a groan followed by a tap on your back wordlessly asking you to turn around. Slowly spinning around you spy a frowning Frisk clutching a fistful of fabric at their hip. You smile at them but it falters slightly when you note that they are trying to hide their arms behind their back. Not wanting them to notice you saw them trying to hide their arms you ask them to turn around so you can begin helping them with their predicament.

Lifting the back of the shirt a bit, you try to tied the elastic bands around their waist. First the underwear band, that was useless, then the band for the sleep pants. That one was a lot easier to tie, but it still didn't hold very well. It'd be great if you had something to hold it like a rubber band or... your hairbrush! Okay, well, not your brush itself, but the hair ties you keep on the handle. You reach over and grab it, pulling off the tie closest to the bottom and use the brown elastic band to make a sort of ponytail with the loose fabric of the pajama pants. There, now they won't fall constantly.

Pulling their shirt back down you sigh a little yawn as they turn back to face you. You chuckle silently when you see Frisk still wearing a face of discomfort as they wiggle their hips. You rest a hand on top of their head and rustle their damp hair with no real change to their current hairstyle, at least there wasn't marinara sauce in it anymore. Holding out the hairbrush to them you ask if they wanted to brush their own hair or have you do it. They thought for a second before pointing to you with a smile on their face. 

You in turn smile and tell the squirt to go wait in the living room. As they scurry out you make your way over to the bath tub. While you'd rather take a quick shower a bath was the better option if you don't want to stand on your sprained ankle in a wet acrylic tub. You plug the drain and start running the hot water before heading back to the living room. You should find something for Frisk to do for when you get in the tub. Was the DVD case still out in the living room? You can have them pick out something to watch.

Getting to the threshold to the living room you glance over to the TV and spot the DVD album sitting on top of the stand. You pick that up and head over to the couch to swap Frisk the brush with it. Taking the left of them you ask them to look through it and pick out something. They begin flipping through the pages and you turn their back to you so you can start brushing. You couldn't get a very good look at any of the discs in the album, partly from Frisk blocking your view and partly due to Frisk not lingering on any page too long. It seemed like none of the things caught their interest. 

A bit into their search Frisk stopped and held up the album to point one of the discs out to you. Three movies with sharpied names filled most of the spaces, but in the bottom right slot sat a genuine disc. A swan was at the bottom of the label with a turtle, frog, puffin, and alligator around her and at the top in shining gold text was the movie's title. Alright, Swan Princess it is.

You stop brushing Frisk's hair to let them get the movie in the player and grab the remote. Switching the brush off to your non-dominant hand you accept the remote from Frisk. They climb back to their seat right next to you on the couch and you press the power button on the remote so the TV can come to life. You swap the remote and brush in your hands, continuing to brush Frisk's hair as unskippable previews played off the disc. It took a minute of waiting but with the main menu showed up and accepted input you hit play on the remote.

You hand both the remote and brush off to Frisk telling them you need to check on the bath. They frown at you but slowly nod. You give them a small smile and tell them you'll just be in the bathroom taking a quick bath before you get up from the couch. Magical water spins around on screen as you walk into the kitchen and by the time you get to the small hallway off the kitchen for the bathroom and pantry you hear opening narration coming from the living room.

When you open the door to the bathroom you're once again met with warm and humid air along with the sound of rushing water. With a smile and a sigh you check to see how full the tub is, the steamy air not bothering you as much knowing you'll soon be bathing. Looking into the bathtub the water level was about halfway from the top, so you left it running a moment longer while you go check on the laundry. You didn't hear the washer running over the cascade of water from the tub's faucet, maybe it was done by now.

Slowly making it over to the laundry room, you find your assumptions to be correct. You move your clothes over to the dryer top and open the washer, moving the damp kid's clothes from one machine to the next. Inspecting the lint trap before starting the dryer you find it to be practically clean, but with as small of a load it previously had that's not surprising. After starting the dryer you turn your attention back to the washer.

You begin undressing, throwing your clothes into the empty washer one article at a time. The first few things were easy. You had no problem getting your stupid Jolly Roger shirt and striped shirt into the wash. You also tossed in your beanie thinking it'd be a good time to wash it considering you have maybe washed it once in the years you've had the thing. Next came the hard part, getting your pants off without sending unnecessary pain to your foot. Undoing the button and zipper you let the jeans fall around your ankles before taking a deep breath and carefully lift your left leg out. Thankfully, it didn't get stuck; also thankfully, you weren't wearing skinny jeans right now. That would really suck.

Left leg feed you balance against the still washer and hop out. There was a small thud from your pants as they fell to the tile floor after snagging a tad on your foot as you hopped out. Picking them up carefully you root through your pockets and find your Swiss army knife still in one of them. Man, you slept in these pants, how did you not notice? Whatever. You set your multi tool down on the rumbling dryer with the phone and gold coins and throw the pants into the washer. Everything left you have on is easily thrown in after, underwear, bra, okay the right sock was a little tricky but not too bad.

Once you got the washer running and pulled down a towel for yourself, you hobble over to the bathtub. Warmth rose off the pool of water gathered in the white acrylic basin. You stop the flow of water and from your seat on the ledge you ease yourself into the tub of hot water. Swiveling around, your left foot dips into the water first and, oh man that feels nice. The water was hot and soothing. Yeah. You are going to be boiled and pruney before you get out of this water.

You soon get yourself seated in the pool of water and a huge dopey grin spreads wide across your face as you lean back and sink down into the heavenly water. You could hear the washer and dryer rumbling in the next room and the drain of the tub slowly take away the blissful water, but you didn't really care about that. You were just wrapped in warmth and probably the most relaxed you've been in months. No crazy lady screaming at you, or throwing things at you, or have a revolving door of men in the house. No demon child breaking your things, or framing you, or calling you every horrible name in the book day after day. And no soul-crushing school with its terrible student body, or uncaring faculty, or unfair classroom standards. Everything now was calm. Safe.

Yesterday, after you got back to that woman's house and gathered your things to leave, the first step you took outside of the house felt lighter. At the time you couldn't savor the feeling for fear of being spotted by some truant officer or a nosy neighbor contacting the devil lady herself. Now, miles away from her and the middle school brat with very little likelihood of them following, you can relish this new freedom. They're finally gone.

It's getting close to the twenty-four hour mark for when you were last seen on the surface, your curious mind begins pondering scenarios of what could be taking place back in the land of sunshine. The school is bound to have noticed something by now, and have informed that she-devil. The question is if the cops have been informed or if she for one reason or another lied to the school and said you were still around. Then again it's the Friday before spring break maybe the school hasn't noticed. If that's the case then how long before the cops do get informed and start investigating?

You heave out a sigh before quickly dunking your whole head underwater to get your hair wet. Coming back up for air you start coughing and choking on the water that went up your nose. Okay, don't do that again. When you get your breathing back to normal you tilt your head back as Frisk comes to mind. You never asked them much about the reasons behind them running away other than about the marks on their arms being caused by their own mother. 

You turn slightly in the tub seeing a few bottles of cleansing supplies in a little alcove of the shower wall and begin absently reading the label, seeing what there is while you run questions through your head. How long have they been running away? Would their mother try and take Frisk back into her abusive watch should you both be found back above ground? Speaking of above ground, how were you going to get there? Not to mention who is this Asgore person... monster... monster person, and how can you avoid them? There's also that Undyne lady Papyrus keeps mentioning. Captain of the royal guard, that's what he said her title and rank is, right? Monsters having a royal guard implies there's royalty to be guarded, and it seems safe to assume aforementioned royalty would reside in the capital.

Breaking your train of thought for a moment you focus instead on the bottles. Of the four bottles in the alcove, the pink one with a pump was a body wash, the yellow and orange ones were hair conditioner surprisingly enough, and the last one you grab is a blue bottle labeled shampoo. Why two skeletons had shampoo and conditioner was beyond you, they're just a very strange duo it seems. Shrugging off the skeleton brothers strange habits you squirt a dollop of shampoo into your hand before putting the blue bottle back. Both hands free you scrub the translucent blue goo onto your head of short hair.

Once good and lathered you dunk your head under the water again, this time keeping your face out of the water. You scrub your head some more to now get all the shampoo out of your hair. Sitting back up you grab a different bottle and start the the process over again, only instead of immediately rinsing it out you leave the conditioner to sit for a minute in your slicked back hair. Leaning your head back on the cool back ledge of the bath you close your eyes and sigh. So, let's see, there's the guard on order to capture any humans and ship them off to the capital. There's also that Asgore person Toriel warned you about, saying they'd straight up kill you.

You blindly reach towards the alcove for the bottle with a pump and get some soap in your hand so you can start washing your body. While capturing and killing are two very different things, they don't have to be mutually exclusive. Maybe Asgore has some connections to the guard or something, like they're a rank higher than captain? Speculation isn't going to get you very far though, you need to ask Sans or Papyrus more about this Asgore person and how to avoid them and the capital.

There's also the matter of reaching some sort of exit and crossing the barrier. Where would said exit be? How long of a trek is it to reach? And if you can get to the exit relatively swiftly, should you and Frisk stay put for a while and let things blow over on the surface? That actually doesn't sound too bad of an idea. Wait things out down here in this snowy little town while authorities slowly give up on you and Frisk. Then when there's less of a threat of getting caught back up there you two continue with your original plan for running away, go to your friend's house back in your hometown a couple of towns over, contact your grandparents, get them to come to drive down and take you back home with them.

Slipping back under the water again with just your face intentionally above the water you scrub out the conditioner from your hair and splash cooling water over any remaining suds on your body. Confident you got all the soap and suds off you sit up and sigh. You're pretty much clean at this point and you can't stay in the bath forever, so with another heavy sigh you reach forward and unplug the drain. Soapy water now draining at a faster rate, you with a great deal of effort and willpower, force yourself out of the bath leaving behind the warm water still in it.

You do more or less the reverse of what you did to get into the tub to get out. Pull yourself up to the ledge, swivel around, and back to your feet. Looking back on the draining water, it was about half empty from the loss of water that managed to drain off while you were still in there. With a small lamentation over leaving the blissful water you brace yourself for more walking. Once managing to get back to your feet you make the short trip back to the laundry room finding both machines shaking ever so slightly. You grab the light chocolatey brown towel, swiftly unfold it and start to dry off care not to balance too much on on your left foot.

After most of the water that clung to you got soaked up by the towel you moved on to dressing. Water left on your thighs grabbed your gray boyshorts making it all the more difficult and less comfortable to pull up. Your pants however, you got your left leg in just fine but the denim kept an annoying hold on your right foot. After fighting them for a minute you finally the dumb pair of pants around your waist, buttoned, and zipped. Then you get your bra on, followed by the dark gray shirt with the distressed picture on the front and your black and red hoodie, that was by far the easiest part of getting dressed.

You pick the brown towel back up and scrub it against your head drying off your ridiculously short hair. You don't really need to wrap your hair up in a towel now that it is short, but you don't know what to do with the used towel now. Not only that but you spot Frisk's discarded lavender towel on the floor by the washer. You reach down and pick that one up too, now you have two towels you don't know what to do with. Stuffing the pair of socks you've yet to put on into your hoodie's pocket you walk back to the bathroom to hang the towels up. Taking a quick look around, the bar for hanging towels right of the doorway for the laundry room already had two towels hanging on it. And since the little hoop by the sink was far too small to hold a towel you instead pull back the shower curtain and drape them over the bar before heading back to the living room.

You hear voices as you approach the living room, two of them sounding like they have accents. There's talk of a wake up call, friends, and a arrow, and when you can finally see the TV screen after reaching the living room you see a puffin and a princess talking about the arrow formally in his wing. As the Puffin realizes there is no longer an arrow in his wing you take a seat on the couch next to Frisk. The puffin apologizes for wrongfully accusing the princess of shooting him and introduces himself, and you ask Frisk if they're enjoying the movie. They nod never breaking their gaze from the screen. You give a small smile that Frisk doesn't even see before sighing quietly.

Your smile doesn't last long. You need to talk with Frisk about, well a few things. Like what finally got them to run away and would their mom make a big fuss and try to get Frisk back. And if they were okay with going cross-country to live with you and your grandparents. You're certain they would love Frisk. Another grandchild to spoil, yaya Amara would hug and love and stuff this kid so full of food Frisk would be bursting at the seams. Grandad meanwhile would let this kid get as messy and creative as they want, playset in the backyard and renovated shed to be a little art studio for his grandkids. Chalkboard walls too, you can draw anywhere in that shed and not get in trouble.

The thought of you and Frisk being able to stay in a place where you'll both be loved, and happy, and safe put a smile on your face. Long before that can happen though, you need to talk with Frisk about some very important and no doubt difficult topics. But for right now, they're happily watching a movie about a princess that got turned into a swan. Not only that but you aren't going very far anytime soon. So it seemed best to put those questions on the back burner at least for the rest of the movie and enjoy this moment of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um so... Pokemon Go... Yeah...  
> I've been out in the fresh air walking around (nearly getting hit crossing driveways TWICE) and not writing. But small breaks are good for me, helps me rethink some things. I mean from the end of May thru all of June I was writing chapters or taking notes.
> 
> Oh, and encase you're curious, I'm one of the few members of Team Instinct in my town. A fact that makes gyms a giant pain in the butt.


	17. Then, Now, and Later

You two ended up finishing the movie with neither of you talking all that much. You both kind of just used that time to zone out and unwind your minds. Your snarky and cynical mind couldn't help but point out and make mental remarks on the jumps in logic characters made and the movie tropes they played into, but that didn't mean you hated to movie or anything. You've just seen to many things poking fun at other movies, good and bad, it's hard not to do so yourself sometimes.

When the credits finally rolled around you let out a loud yawn and arched your back to stretch. You turn your head to look at Frisk, smiling at them before you see them fidgeting with their arms again. Your smile falls and you ask Frisk to turn off the TV or mute it. Hesitantly they point the remote at the screen and mute the TV as credits continue to roll on screen. You take a deep breath and feel a tight grip on your heart. You have no idea where to begin, but you need to talk to them. Now, when no one else is here.

“Frisk,” you begin, speaking as gently as possible, “we need to talk about some things, like how we're going to get back above ground and what we'll do when we get there. But first...” you let out a long sigh and keep your eyes locked on your hands in your lap for a minute before looking back to Frisk, “Sweetie, I need to know why you ran away. And if your mom is going to try and take you back with her if we get picked up by police.”

The kid wearing your pajamas starts to move their hands but stops. Then they open their mouth only to close it again before any sound comes out. Lastly they get off the couch and head for the dining table left of the kitchen entry way to pick up the red notebook left there. The steps they take back to their seat on the couch were slow and calculated as if to put off talking as long as they could. You didn't say anything about Frisk's slow pace. This can't be very easy for them, they're probably nervous and sad, maybe even scared. You don't want to make it worse by scolding them right now over something so little.

Frisk climbed back up on the couch, notebook in one hand and mechanical pencil in the other. Once they got reseated, Frisk opened the spiral notebook and turned to an empty page. It took a minute or two of hovering the pencil above the blank paper but Frisk eventually started scratching words onto the paper. The pencil stopped a few times to be flipped and erase some words, but when it was finally pulled away from the paper Frisk handed you the notebook.

The words on the page didn't make sense. Sure it was all legible English in simple sentences, but you just couldn't wrap your head completely around it. The gist of Frisk's message said that their mom didn't want them. Frisk already told you that yesterday, but went on to say that she left. On the kid's birthday... That bitch ran off to some tropical island and left Frisk with twenty bucks, a bus pass, and the last words to her child telling to go to Mt. Ebott. That scum of the earth, she up and abandoned them on their own birthday!? And told them to go to this stupid freaking mountain with a bunch of ghost stories surrounding it!? Which turns out, hey some of those might have some truth to them considering you're in a world of monsters.

Your blood is boiling. Right now you want nothing more than to track down that woman and knock her lights out. Not just her. Your list of people you want to punch the everliving crap out of consists of Frisk's mother, that devil lady and her equally horrible brat, the freaking governor, and that wretched excuse for life that... You shut your eyes tight and grit your teeth. Calm down, getting upset right now won't solve anything.

Exhaling a ragged sigh you hand the notebook back to Frisk. You spent a moment trying to cool off and process what Frisk answered with. Meanwhile the kid jotted down something else into the notebook. If that bitch left on Frisk's birthday, how long have they been on their own? Your internal inquiry was met with a question from Frisk as they offered you the notebook again asking if you're alright. You weakly smile to them and nod.

Your lips fall back into a frown a moment later and you ask Frisk when there birthday was. Frisk scrawled something quickly onto the lined paper before showing a misspelling of Wednesday. Today was Friday, and you met yesterday. Assuming that their mom left while Frisk was in school, Frisk had been by themselves all that night and yesterday morning.

Turning so that your back was against the pillows and arm of the couch you gesture for Frisk to crawl over to you. You wrap your arms around the child when they get close enough and hold them tight. It became silent between you two for a while. You thought Frisk might have dozed off until you heard them quietly call out for your attention. “What is it, sweetpea?” you softly ask. They respond with a question, asking what your parents were like. A lump formed in your throat and you try your best to swallow it. “My parents?” you repeat stalling for time. Frisk softly nods into your arm. You take a deep breath before answering.

“Well my mom...” you can barely get that out before another lump is in your throat, “My mom was... she was very headstrong.” You close your eyes and hug Frisk closer, “She worked very hard and she wouldn't easily back down, especially when she was right about something.”

“My uncle Atticus told me this story how one day, he and my mom were out shopping while my mom was very pregnant with me. He was like fourteen at the time and was running around helping her get things because she had to waddle about. Well, he had to go to the end of the aisle to fetch something meanwhile this elderly couple starts berating my mom, calling her lazy and fat and a... other not nice words implying that she, uh, was with a lot of guys? Then my uncle comes back seeing his eldest sister being insulted and judged by these to old people, and they get one good look at him and say my mom is a horrible mother letting her son dress like that, calling him mean homophobic things. All he was wearing that was 'unusual' was a bright orange tee-shirt and blue sweatband on his wrists, cause my uncle is a huge dork and just started watching Dragonball Z.”

“My mom lost it then. She could tolerate the couple's ranting about her, but not about her baby brother who was brave enough to actually come out and tell the family he's homosexual. My uncle said that after the couple insulted him my mom tore them down, saying that those terrible busybody old farts have pretty pathetic lives if they feel the need to go up to strangers and 'correct' their lives. And that they and any children they might have should be absolutely ashamed of them. Questioning what kind of sick person would insult a clearly expecting mother and her younger brother, a child, helping her in the store. She and Atticus left with her cursing up a storm at the old couple and going to the check out. Uncle Atty said that as he and mom left _everyone_ else in the store shot the two old jerks glares. The best part is, later that day when the whole family is back at yaya's- er, my grandmother's restaurant, who should walk in, but cranky elderly pair. Yeah, uh,” you laugh a bit nervously, “That didn't go over well for the couple.”

There was a moment of quiet between you two after finishing your story. You smile and nuzzle your head in Frisk's clean brunette hair taking in the same scent of the shampoo that is in your hair. Your features twist in confusion as an odd smell fills your nose. You expected the shampoo to smell light and fruity or flowery, but instead it smelled like Frisk just got done pulling a shift at a sushi restaurant. Weird, but okay... Whatever. You ignore the smell and hug Frisk closer, smiling again. It felt nice to be able to talk about your mom and not break down crying.

Frisk squirmed a little in your embrace before leaning more into you. They also asked about your father to which you give a sad laugh and shrug. “My dad? Well, he was an Irishman like my grandad. He loved the beach and loved taking me there to play. That was pretty much the reason why we moved out here shortly after I was born, he wanted me to grow up close the ocean,” you hum softly and comb your fingers through Frisk's still drying hair, “I remember when I was little, whenever it was raining, my dad and I would make hot chocolate and popcorn and would just sit and watch TV. Nine times out of ten we would watch an anime because I was a freaking nerd even as a child,” You smile remembering the rainy days only to have it falter a second later, “I don't know for sure what happened to him, he's been gone since I was around seven years old. Mom never stopped loving him though, she always said the summer they met when she and her family took a trip to Ireland was like a fairytail come to life.”

Frisk asked how it was that your parents met, and you ruffle their hair. You tell them they've asked enough questions for the time being and it's your turn to ask them something. The kid huffs, but doesn't do much else. Taking that as a go ahead, you think of your question. After a second you voice your inquiry, “Alright smalls, what do you think of going and living with my grandparents when we get back to the surface? Long term, I mean. Like them adopting you as their grandkid.” Frisk shifts in your arms to look at you blankly. You give them a small smile, albeit a nervous one, “I'm positive they would love to have another grandkid to spoil. If you want to stay that is. If not, that's cool, I'll still stick with ya until we find a home for you too.”

Big brown eyes began to quiver as water gathered in them. You start to worry that you unintentionally upset the kid, but all notions of that were dashed away when two arms wrapped around you, hugging you tighter than ever before. Frisk sniffled a bit and nuzzled into you while you hold the kid close, rubbing their back some. There came a quiet, “Les?” from Frisk you hum to ask what it was, “I just... I want... I...” Frisk had trouble finishing their thought so you gently ask what it is they wanted. After a small pause Frisk asked, “Can you be my big sister? Please?”

As soon as the words were out of their mouth it felt like they went and yanked your heartstrings as hard as humanly possible. There were tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes, so you close them and lightly press your face into Frisk's hair. “Yeah, sweetpea,” you answer with a swift peck on their head, “I'll be your big sister.” A smile broke out across your face and you squeeze Frisk into a bear hug. You also wiggle your fingers into their sides earning you a squeal of laughter. “And you can be the cutest, sweetest, little sibling ever!”

You left go of your new little sibling and let them catch their breath. The giggles die down leaving you both with huge smiles on your faces. Taking a content sigh you ask what Frisk wanted to do now. They just shrug, unsure of what to do, and you halfheartedly roll your eyes at the kid. “Well, I have a DS with some games you can borrow.” Frisk asked what all games you had for your little green handheld. You took a half second to think of your minuscule library of games before listing them off, “Let's see. I have, the first Mystery Dungeon, Soulsilver but ah, I'm in the middle of that one right now so not that one. Um, there's Animal Crossing, you can start a new town if you want, and The Eternal Crystals has multiple saves if you want to start a new game of that,” You blow out a long puff of air and try to recall the rest of your games, “I have the World's of Eriko remake for the DS,” a small smirk tugs at your lips as you add, “I think there's also Bejeweled and Cooking Mama.” Maybe you should let Papyrus play those games when he gets back, they seem right up his alley. “And I have some GBA games that you could play too. Leafgreen, that one you can play if you want, some Castlevania game I think, and Hamtaro Ham-Ham Heartbreak.”

“What's that last one?” Frisk asked with a tilt of their head. With a small smile you explain the simple premise of the game. You inform them that in Ham-Ham Heartbreak you go around as two cute little hamsters, Hamtaro and Bijou, and help out all the other hamsters whose relationships have been hurt by a mean hamster named Spat. You've beaten that game more times than you can count, and could probably speed through the whole thing in a few hours if you wanted. “That sounds fun. Can I play that one?”

You give them a nod before leaning to your right, over the side of the couch to grab your DS lite and its case out of your backpack. Handing Frisk the DS for a moment you flip open the case. You take out one of the larger cartridges, the one with the light blue label slapped on it, and set the case and its remaining games in your lap for a second. Asking for the light green device back you put in the GBA game into the bottom slot and take out the smaller cartridge from the top. You have it in the setting for the DS to automatically start up games and the stupid thing prioritizes DS games over Game Boy games. With the requested game swapped in you turn it on and hand it back to the waiting child. 

Frisk now having their distraction, you put the loose DS game in the case with the others and drop that back into your backpack. But now what are you going to do? No phone, no DS, all you have left is your dinky little ipod that's buried in your bookbag somewhere. You could put on another movie, but that seems kinda lame right now. Wait. Didn't you see something other than the DVD player in the TV stand's cabinet? Might as well check.

You lean over the side and slink out from behind Frisk off the couch, ending up landing on the floor a little harder than anticipated. Face first as well. Your little slip up got a concerned squeak out of Frisk. You groan out to them saying you're fine before shimmying off the couch the rest of the way and crawling towards the still muted TV.

Once getting to the stand you open both the doors and look at what all what all was there. For starters, the DVD player, which you hit the power button on to turn it off. Next to it on the shelf was a light gray flat box with four circles on top, three of the circles being buttons. You immediately recognized the ancient tech as an original Playstation. Dear lord, that thing had to be older than you. It had one controller plugged in which sat next to the console wrapped in its cord, and a memory card occupying each of the slots. This is good, you just need a game you can play.

Curious to see if there is a hidden gem inside the PS one, you push in the open button on the right side of the gray box. The lid popped open revealing a disc inside. Seeing the disc your lips curl up into a smirk as you fight back snickers. On the disc's label was a knight, kneeling and holding onto a sword with a boney hand. Behind the knight's skull was the title of the game, MediEvil. Of all the possible Playstation games these two could have had, they have the one featuring a skeletal knight.

You shake your head at the game smiling and closed the lid. You've never actually played this game before, the only reason you even know about it was because of your cousins. A few years ago one of them brought their Play Station over with them to your grandparents' house with a bunch of their games, MediEvil being one of them. You only ever watched your two older cousins play that one, you much preferred playing Spyro and Parappa over the darker game. But hey, you're almost seventeen now, the graphics have no doubt aged and the dark colors aren't nearly as scary to you. Might as well give this old game a play.

You hit the power button on the Play Station, turning on the light and noisily started spinning the disc. It seems to be plugged into a power source at least. Now you need to flip through the TV channels and see if it's hooked up. Looking to either of your sides you realize you didn't bring the remote and you ask for Frisk to hand it to you. The get up and hand you off the dark gray rectangle not even bothering to break eye contact with the bottom screen of the DS as they do so. You chuckle to yourself as Frisk climbs back onto the couch and start pressing various buttons on the remote hoping to see something show up on the TV. You switch the TV to AV when, voila! The TV suddenly showed a still image of the skeletal knight with a shield in hand and various things in the background behind him.

You grab the controller for the console and unwind the cord before taking it and the remote with you as you crawl back. The cord turns out is pretty freaking long seeing as it stretched from the PS one to the couch. Instead of climbing back onto the couch however, you took a seat on the floor and leaned back against the furniture. Once seated and turned around you notice the mute icon still on screen, so you promptly unmute the TV as the screen fades to black.

The game then played a cutscene of sorts of scrolling text and still images. The font was a little difficult to read from across the room with its tight kerning but thankfully there was a narrator. The opening story could be summed up as; evil sorcerer, Zarok, had plans to pretty much destroy the fictional kingdom of the game, and was stopped by the king's champion, a Sir Daniel Fortesque. Narration closing with the sorcerer coming back a hundred years later, the game loads a genuine cutscene following who you can only assume to be Zarok, read from a book then go in to a town and graveyard casting some kind of evil green magic.

The menu loads after the scene ends and you chance a look at the clock above the table to check the time. Roughly three minute before ten, you have now officially been on the run for at least twenty-four hours. You attended your first class yesterday, surely the fact that you missed the rest of Thursday and the start of Friday has raised some kind of red flag, right? But that school was crappy, maybe they'll just try to cover up your disappearance. It not them than maybe that hag... Oh, who really cares? The school doesn't. The wicked witch and her brat don't. And you don't care either, not right this instant anyway. Right now its lay low, relax, and wait out the building hurricane back on the surface, and maybe in an hour or two check the kitchen to make something to eat for you and Frisk.

Breaking yourself from your thoughts of lunch and potential conspiracies you start a new game. A cutscene and dialogue with some gargoyles provide you more exposition for the old Play Station game, Sir Dan in truth was the first to fall in the war and has a chance to redeem himself. Now with a goal to work towards you can play the game, and promptly fumble with the controls. The controller not having any analog sticks made the thing not only look weird but made playing the game a tad clunky for you. At least you have the first level as a tutorial to get used to things.

Once done reading all the books in Dan's Crypt and collecting everything not nailed down you go to the map to save before heading to the first real level. Clearing the Graveyard level of enough zombies and collecting a chalice, rewards you with a crossbow at the end of the level. The level after that on the other hand, Cemetery Hill, kicked Sir Dan and by proxy you, pretty hard to the curb with the stupid boulders rolling down the hill you had to climb. Managing to still beat the level in one try you save and head to the next level, Hilltop Mausoleum. The level was simple enough, though it took you longer than you'd like to admit before realizing the new weapon the game gave you was supposed to be used to smash the spikes of glass shards. But hey, the weapon deteriorated with each use and your frugal with things.

At the end of the level you face off against the game's first boss, The Stained Glass Demon, where the game straight up tells you that the heart of the beast is its only weak point. You ready your sword and when the glowing bright red heart of the beast floats out of... Well that looks oddly familiar. Bizarrely enough, the demon's heart in the game takes a shape closer to an actual heart than the ones that have been pulled to float in front of Frisk and yourself. What also struck you as a little strange was that the heart of the demon was both a solid heavily saturated red much like Frisk's heart shaped soul and a red haze that looked like the haze that surrounded your soul a few times.

Dismissing the slight unease the boss caused you as best you can, you run around the arena trying to avoid the demon's attack having failed to attempt to land a hit. Taking a lot more hits than you would have liked the demon began charging again. With sword in hand you jump to strike the demon, and nothing. No damage. Instead you are pelted in another rainbow of glass shards knocking your health down rapidly. This happens a few more times, with the only differences being the glass demon changing up his attacks as you run completely out of health and backup lives, promptly getting a game over. You reload the level to make a second attempt at slaying the demon, and are frustrated a bit by the fact you can't just jump straight into the boss fight. You do much better this time, actually remembering to use your shield and a ranged weapon. You lean forward, whittling down the demon's health, you got so close you could taste victory, just a few more hits. Game over.

You growl annoyed at the game and your inability to kill the boss before it killed you. Stupid thing. You were so close. You lean back against the couch, head on the cushion and looking up at the ceiling as you let out a sigh. You notice your arms felt jittery after two failed attempts of beating the boss. You were soooo close too, it's not fair. Just a few more seconds and you totally would have won. Whatever, you'll just take a small break and let your nerves calm for a second. Your mind began roaming again during this break. It was then you remembered something, you have laundry going or at least you it was going.

After picking up the controller off your lap and gently tossing it over to your side, you get up. As you carefully rise to your feet a softly spoken question asking what you were doing came from behind you. Stretching out your body some you tell Frisk that you're going to check the laundry, and maybe look for something to make for lunch. Achy muscles feeling better after stretching you slowly make your way from the living room to the laundry room.

Entering the bathroom you were met with an expected silence. Hobbling your way into the laundry room left of the tub you spot the gold coins, old cell phone, and your multi tool sitting on top of the still dryer. Oops... Well, only Papyrus has the number for that phone, right? If you're lucky he hasn't been fruitlessly trying to call you. Making your way over to the dryer you swiftly pick up the phone and check the outdated tiny screen on it. It didn't say there were any missed calls, you're not entirely sure this dumb thing would tell you something like that in the first place.

Shrugging it off for now, you set the phone back down on the dryer and open the door in front of it. Reaching in you notice Frisk's clothes still have some warmth to them before you start pulling them out to fold. You grabbed the denim pants first and fold them, setting them on the dryer top with the other things on it pushed back. The sweater was next to be folded, leaving three smaller items left in the drum. You nearly fall on your butt at sudden vibrations echo through the drum but grab hold of the machine to prevent from falling. Thankfully the dryer wasn't moving so whatever the vibrations are, it's not the dryer spontaneously turning on. There was a ringing a split second after you steadied yourself letting you know exactly what it was that scared you.

Abandoning the last few items of clothing, you stand back up and answered the phone with a polite greeting. “Oh Les!” exclaimed the energetic skeleton on the other end, “Hello, I thought the tiny human Frisk would have the phone.”

“I took the phone out of their pocket so I could throw their things in the washer as they bathed. I was changing the laundry right when you called,” you reply with a small laugh, “I kinda forgot it back here. Pretty good timing though, a couple of minutes earlier and I would have missed your call.”

“Wait. You're doing laundry?” Papyrus questioned, to which you hum your answer to him while leaning down to fetch the rest of the clean clothes with your free hand. “But Les, your foot! You said it was still hurting! You shouldn't be up! Normally I don't like to encourage laziness, but I'd rather you be lazy than in pain!”

You can't help but chuckle at the concerned skeleton. He's a real sweetheart worrying over his new friend, you just wish he wouldn't fuss so much over a simple thing like a sprain. “Dude, quit fussing!” you chuckle as you put the phone in the crook of your neck. With your hands free you can fold the last few things while you talk, “I'm fine, I promise. You don't need to worry so much, this isn't even the first time I've sprained my ankle.”

As you pick up the only two socks you hear a panicked skeleton shout, “You've done this before!?” You found yourself laughing some more while you bound the two together in a ball. He was getting himself worked up over nothing, and as funny as it is you would like him to calm down.

“Not on purpose,” you reply setting the last of Frisk's folded clothes on the dryer, “and compared to the crap my uncles have done, or even the stuff that happens when I'm with all my cousins, a sprained ankle is like the best possible outcome.” On the other end of the line came a quiet groan of frustration and Papyrus commenting that he's scared to ask more about that. “Yeaaah... um, I'm kinda a bull in a china shop. Not a clam one just trying to move either. I'm like a bull leading the stampede through a china shop.”

There was another groan from Papyrus and you can just see him shaking his head at you from wherever he is. Smiling to yourself you open the lid to the washer and begin pulling out your damp clothes as Papyrus continues, “Before you say anything else to make me more worried, there is a reason I called. I am on my way to meet with Undyne,” you grew tense at the mentioned name but made no comment about it just yet, allowing him to continue without missing a beat, “and ask her to ask Dr. Alphys to work on your phone, but uh... As great as I am at puzzles, your phone is very confusing. It only has a handful of buttons, and they only light up the screen!”

You're confused by his statement for a second before you laugh, and start tossing your clothes from yesterday into the dryer. “You know it's a touch screen, right?” you ask throwing in your jeans. Judging by the way he parroted; touch screen, he didn't know. Tossing in the rest of your clothes you respond, “Turn on the screen, then tap the numbers on the bottom half of it. Hit the numbers next to the letters N, E, K, and O, that'll unlock it. And before you say anything about my password, yes, I fully aware I am a dork for using that. I don't care.”

“Actually I was just going to say that I also asked Sans to go by the house and help you two with lunch,” Papyrus replies as you gently close the lid to the washer, “Though I'm certain he's just going to bring lunch from that greasy spoon Grillby's.” You tell him you're cool with that as you move Frisk's clothes from the dryer top to the washer. Checking the lint trap you hear Papyrus continuing on excitedly, “Oh! I nearly forgot to ask, I was wondering if when you can walk, without being in pain, if you and Frisk would like to tag along one day when I go to visit Undyne?”

Your heart stops when you hear Papyrus' question. Go and meet Undyne? Someone who would want to ship you off to the capital. Possibly even want your head on a pike, you're not quite sure about that one. Either way, it seemed way better for your continued good health to avoid Undyne rather than meet her. Turning to lean against the machines you voice some of your thoughts to the friendly skeleton on the other end of the line, “ I don't know, Papyrus. That doesn't... I don't think that's a good idea. Wouldn't she ship Frisk and me off to your capital or something?”

“Not if you were her house guest!” Papyrus swiftly and cheerfully noted, “And I, The Great Papyrus, who knows Undyne very well, am positive if you became friends with her, she wouldn't send either of you to the capital!” You're still very unsure about that idea, it seemed like a million things could go wrong with it, landing not only you but Frisk in a very bad situation. Potentially even Sans and Papyrus. Your gut started to not with anxiety prompting you to ask Papyrus if he has mentioned you or Frisk to Undyne yet. “No, I haven't had the chance. I was going to today,” Papyrus took a small pause, possibly to choose his next words, but you cut in asking if he would not mention of you of Frisk to her. There was a brief moment of silence on the line, but reluctantly Papyrus agreed to your request. “Alright, Les human, I won't tell her about you two. I don't like lying though, and I ask in return that you genuinely think about meeting her.”

The anxiety in your stomach unknotted a tad, however it was still very much there. “Yeah. Okay. I'll... I'll think about it,” you breathed out a sigh and added, “Thank you, though. You and Sans... you guys are life savers.” Another small moment of quiet passed before Papyrus responded. He returned to his usual cheerful and boastful manner of speaking, saying; you're welcome and that The Great Papyrus will always be there for his friends. His exuberance brought a smile back to your face. As nice as it would have been to chat a little while longer, Papyrus had to get back to what he was doing. You two exchange promises to see one another later and hang up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm reuploading this chapter after cutting down on the part of playing the PS1 game. 3 times, 3 times i rewrote that part trying to trim it down and only managed to cut out roughly 300 words, ugh... that doesn't seem like a whole lot. I also tried to throw in a few other things to break it up a bit more, as well as fix a few spelling/grammar errors that where kindly pointed out to me.
> 
> I don't actually have a beta reader or editor of any kind for this and rely on a combination of Open Office, Google Docs, and internet searches to check for these things. So if you find a few errors tell me where they are and I'll try to get them corrected.


	18. Lunch With A Skeleton

The dryer now running, set to work on the last load of your laundry, you left the little room off the bathroom though not before pocketing the things previously left on top of the dryer. Entering the living room you went over to the table and set the gold coins and your pocket knife down by your other things. This would be a good time to count out all the gold Frisk picked up yesterday. You balance most of your weight onto your good foot and lean slightly against the table and sort the gold pieces.

You slide all the coins into rows of five to better count them. As you do that Frisk makes a peep, asking what you were doing. “Seeing how much of this monster money we have,” you answer sliding one lone coin away from the three rows of five. You pick up the coin, holding it close to examine all the little details. One side had the Delta Rune that you spotted in the Ruins several times as well on the giraffe-necked dog's shield. That symbol seems to be everywhere down here. Turning the coin over a V slightly rose out from the coin with the word, five, printed four times around the edge.

Setting the gold coin back down, Roman numeral side up, you look over the rest of the coins. On the others there were Is, Xs, another V, and one with two Xs. The rest had the Delta Rune facing up. Flipping the coins so that they all showed their values you began to split them up by just that. You end up with six one-coins, three five-coins. Four ten-coins, and three twenty-coins. You start adding it all up and get... sixty and forty make a hundred, fifteen and six is... So you have one-hundred twenty-one gold. Is that a lot? It kinda sounds like a lot.

Now done with your counting you look up to the clock on the wall. Both hands pointed up towards the twelve with the minute hand tilted a bit to the right to the next notch over. Ohp. Now it's the second notch. Sans should be getting back soon, at least that's what Papyrus said on the phone. If he's going to be back with food than you better not start making anything. As you begin stacking the golden quarter like coins on top of each other you ponder if Sans really is getting you guys food from Grillby's, and if so will it be fries like you ordered yesterday, or an actual meal? You're hoping for the meal to be honest, you're starting to get hungry.

With the coins counted and no longer spread out on the table you hobble back to your seat in front of the couch. “So, looks like you picked up a hundred and twenty-one gold pieces worth of change,” you tell Frisk as you carefully plop down onto the floor, “Tomorrow we'll see what all we can get for that. I'll see what I can get if I sell some of my things too.” You reach for your controller when two sharp knocks sounded from the front door. You whine and groan out to yourself and any listening in universal forces, “But I just sat down!”

There's another two knocks and this time you hear a familiar voice on the other side of the door say, “Knock knock.” You groan from your seat some more and just tell the silly skeleton to come inside. “Nah. You gotta ask who's at the door first.” you hear the muffled voice of Sans reply. Giving in you ask Sans who's there. “A herd,” asking who this, A herd, is prompted Sans to answer, “A herd you two were home, so I came over.”

The door opened after that and a short skeleton carrying a plastic bag walked in. You shake your head smiling a tad at him and huffed out a few laughs. “Sans you're a dork,” you inform him while pulling your right leg towards you starting to sit cross-legged, except you kept your left extended out in front of you.

“I don't know,” Sans responded setting the bag down on the table, “It's pretty cold outside, I think that makes me more of a _numbskull_.” You close your eyes and gently shake your head him, groaning and fighting the smile trying to form on your face. You heard Frisk giggling behind you, which in turn broke your willpower used to stop you from smiling. You open your eyes and see Sans pull the white plastic down off of three styrofoam like to-go boxes. Asking him what he got for lunch, Sans replies, “Three burgers. Why? Did you want something too?”

You roll your eyes at the goof when you hear him ask what the book on the table was. “My biology textbook. I forgot to ditch it after skipping school yesterday,” you answer with a shrug, “I'm hoping I can sell it. Oh also... what can like a hundred and twenty gold get us?” Sans said you could get one glam-burger from the MTT-Resort...? The Hell is that? And resort? There's a resort down here?

Sans chuckled some at your confusion and held out two white to-go boxes. One for you and one for Frisk. “What is it you're wanting to buy?” Sans asked after handing off the boxes. As he pulls out one of the dining table chairs you point your thumb back towards Frisk and tell him you'd like to get a few clothes for them. Swiveling the chair so that it faced more towards you and Frisk Sans sat down and added, “I'm sure my bro would be happy to take the kid shopping after he gets back.”

You breath out a sharp sigh and shake your head. “Sans, no. I can't just let you guys keep doing this kind of stuff for us. Seriously, it's too much.” You heard a soft mumbling behind you causing you to shift and turn to to better see the eight-year-old behind you. You ask Frisk to repeat what they said but when they open their mouth the words die in their throat. They look away for a second before raising their hands some. First they pull their hands closer to themselves before extending them out, both hands pointing away. Okay, you got this. Frisk showed you these ones yesterday, but you're definitely going to need a refresher later today. The first one though, pulling towards them... Frisk wants, that's it. And the second one, pointing away... oh.

“You want to go shopping with Papyrus, sweetpea?” you ask making sure you understood them. Frisk nodded with a bright smile stretched across their face as they open their styrofoam box of food. You let out a long drawn out sigh and run a hand through your short hair. “You're killin' me, smalls. Alright fine. But I'm going too, sprained ankle or not,” You shift your sharp gaze over to the skeleton in the room, “and I'm not letting you guys pay for everything. I don't like having to mooch off of people. Especially people I just met yesterday.”

“Buddy, it's fine,” Sans said with a slight smirk and small laugh, “You aren't moochin' off us. We're happy to help. Not only that, but it's been awhile since I've seen Papyrus this happy. Any time he comes to check on me he ends up gushing about you two. So don't sweat it.” You feel heat start to rise on your face and quietly groan in defeat before looking down to your container of food in your lap. Not really knowing what to say to that or even really wanting to reply you open the box and pick up the burger inside. Sans laughed a bit more as you somewhat grumpily take a bite out of your food, at least the hot food gives you an excuse for your cheeks to be warm. Taking more bites out of the burger you hear the last to-go box open from Sans' direction, as well as something slide across the table. Glancing over to the hoodie clad skeleton you spy him holding up a red handle in one hand. He picked up his burger in his free hand and asked, “Who's James Flynn?”

When there was no longer food in your mouth you answer, “My Grandad. That used to be his. He gave It to me on my fifth birthday after my two older cousins declined.” After explaining you take another bite of the burger, which was pretty good. Sans set the tool down on top of your biology book and asked between bites if knives were a normal gifts for five year old humans. “Not normally that young, no. But it depends really, mostly on the kid. If the kid 's in scouts or is outdoorsy a Swiss Army knife would be right up their alley so long as their mature and responsible. My grandad made sure I knew how to properly use it before giving it to me. That didn't stop my mom from...” emotions almost completely drain out of you the instant that three letter word left your mouth. You glance down at your food huffing out an empty laugh, “She freaked out that her dad gave his five year old granddaughter a pocket knife. She made me promise never to take it to school or use it against anybody save for self-defensive reasons.” 

A huge pang of negative emotions hit you like a truck, leaving you to feel horrible inside. Why did you have to bring up your promise? Now all you can think about is how disappointed your mom must be for you to pretty much break your promise after over a decade. You tried your best not to show your pain on the outside, choosing to continue eating so as not to have to talk more. Despite your best efforts; however, that didn't stop the water from gathering in your eyes.

“H-hey buddy,” You hear Sans' voice cut through your internal downward spiral, “Calm down. You didn't actually hurt anyone with it yesterday, right?” You slowly glance over to him out of the corner of your eye, sinuses starting to clog up and not wanting to fully look over. You nod the slightest bit. It might be true that you never hurt anyone with it, but you had earnestly thought about it several times throughout the day. In all the years that your grandad had the thing he never hurt anyone, even by accident, he used it strictly as a tool. But you, you almost poisoned it out of fear. That had only been used to help and create, and you almost used it to hurt. “Buddy... Les... Come on, it's okay. It doesn't sound like you broke your promise.”

Frisk slid down off the couch and took a seat on the floor between you and your backpack. Their arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly. You take in a few deep breaths and try to do as Sans suggested and calm down. You felt a few stray tears slip down your face as you shift and wrap your arms around the child next to you. You tug them closer to you while a sad smile started to pull at your lips. A very soft voice came from Frisk and asked, “Lessy, are you going to be alright?” You chuckle some at Frisk's new nickname for you, essentially being a nickname of a nickname. You nod to them, saying that you'll be fine.

There was a brief moment of silence after that, at least between the three of you, the game had been cycling through the opening narration and cutscene for the duration of lunch. Frisk at least turned down the volume of the TV when you when to check the laundry. You heard a small laugh come from Sans causing you to glance over to him while still hugging Frisk. “Plus you said you promised not to hurt anybody, right? Even if you did hit me, I'm a skeleton,” you were going to speak up, voicing your confusion and concerns over what he said. But then he continued, “I'm a _no body_ ”

“Oh my god,” you groan fighting back laughter. It's a fight you're quickly losing. Frisk giggled away in your hold and you squeeze a little closer while wiping away tears with one hand. The short boost of cheer Sans helped to give you faded along with some of your smile, but there was enough still with you to prevent you from slipping back into despair. “Sans you're the worst... but thank you.”

Sans chucked, “No problem.” Smile still on your face, you let go of Frisk to rub at your eyes. Once cleared of half-formed tears you glance over to Sans and see him holding his burger. Before taking a bite out of it he asked, “Anyway... how are you guys holding up here?”

“Alright,” you answer in a somewhat hushed sigh, “We watched Swan Princess, and started playing old games. I can't believe you guys have a PS one with MediEvil of all games in it.” You got the feeling that Sans was going to inquire about the game, but Frisk decided to peep up quietly exclaiming that along with what you just listed, you are also their big sister now. Heat rose to your cheeks, caught off guard and slightly embarrassed by the child's boldness with the statement. As means to avert some of your embarrassment you laugh nervously and pick back up your food, adding, “Yeah, that too,” with a crooked smile before taking a bite.

Frisk turned around to pull their lunch off the couch and onto their lap as you take a few more bites of your food. When Sans was able to speak again he says, “That's cool. It's nice having a sibling.” Your gaze shifts over to the skeleton and you see him wearing his standard relaxed expression with a bright smile.

You smile and shrug. When you yourself could speak again you reply, “I can't imagine it'd be too much different than what it's like staying with all my cousins for the summer at my grandparents' house.” As you take a few more bites out of your burger Sans tilted his head the slightest bit and asked how many cousins you have. Swallowing so you can talk again without being rude you answer with, “Um well, my uncle Justice has five kids, my uncle Liam has six, uncle Romano has four, so there's fifteen. Um and uncle Atty and his husband have two kids. Oh wait no, their adoption went through so they have three kids now. Technically there's also my wicked witch of an aunt and her brat...” trailing off you quickly murmur your counting as the fingers on your non-dominant hand twitch with each number, “...nineteen. I've got nineteen cousins total. Eighteen of whom I actually consider family. And we have gotten into _so much_ trouble,” you added laughing.

“Wow...” Sans responded blinking at you. You take a few more bites before the stunned skeleton continues, “What kind of trouble are you talking about?” You chuckle as so many memories come to mind. You tell Sans and Frisk a few things you've done over your summers. Most of them being just minor things like drawing on each others faces when passed out, putting food coloring into milk and orange juice, dropping ice cubes down shirts. Then there was trying to out do one another's stupid stunts which lead to many visits to the hospital over the years.

“One of my favorite things we did was when my oldest cousin got her first cell phone around the age of eleven or twelve. She kept getting calls from various scamming telemarketers, and her being a minor, they really shouldn't have been doing that,” you explain to the skeleton and the child, “We started taking turns answering seeing who could have them on the longest. My older two cousins asked normal dumb prank call lines like the running fridge as well as ask a billion questions not at all related to what the guy was 'selling',” you say doing air quotes,“but when it was my turn, I did something else. I start reciting parts of the song my grandad had been trying to teach us as responses to what they were saying. A song that was in Gaelic.” 

Your lips pull up into a smile suggesting you were a feline getting away with eating a small yellow bird as you continue, starting to snicker while doing so. “I kept getting switched from an English salesperson to one speaking Spanish, both extremely confused. To keep them on the line I threw in some English, like, 'Oh, I'm sorry' and 'What was that?' Anyway, after a few minutes all my cousins over the age of four or five gather around and I switch it to speaker phone. We're all giggling and trying to stay quiet. I start singing real quiet, and get louder and louder and my cousins start joining in. Somehow it gets to the point where like seven kids were all are singing into the phone: 'Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach; Dúlamán na farraige, 's é b'fhearr a bhí in Éirinn,' over and over again!” You're trying your best to hold back laughter. “Then, like one of my really little cousins giggled in the distance, and the salesperson loses it. He screams and curses at us before hanging up.”

Your shoulders are bouncing as you fight back laughter. Neither Sans nor Frisk say a word for a second or two after you're done telling them the stunt you pulled on the phone. When one of the two finally decided to talk again, it was Sans. “Wow... that's something,” the skeleton said, sounding to you like he was still a little stunned, “What was that you guys were even saying to 'im?” Getting your laughs to die down some you inform Sans that you and your family were pretty much just singing about seaweed. “Huh, sounds like he wasn't a very _kelpful_ guy.”

Any amusement you had drained right out of you at Sans' last comment. You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan at the pun making skeleton. “You guys really _seased_ the day, that day,” Sans continued, “What a _whale_ of a time that must have been. I _otter_ keep that story in mind whenever I call you on my _shell_ phone. I'll also be _shore_ to have a good _porpoise_ for calling. I wouldn't want to waste your _tide_ , so I'd only call if it was _urchin._ But-”

“Good god, man!” you cut in, face burning up both from some irritation and lots of embarrassment, both first and second hand, “Do you ever stop!?”

Unphased and without missing a beat Sans says, “ _Water_ you talking about?” You broke. You pull your hood over from your shoulder and hide the lower half of your face as you close your eyes tight and laugh. Your face hurt from smiling, your gut hurt from laughing, but you were happy. You heard chuckling from Sans and giggles from Frisk. This right here, with a new friend and a new sibling, this was by far the best lunch you've had in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The specific lyrics are pulled from Altan's version of Dúlamán and I believe translate to  
> "Seaweed from the yellow cliff, Irish seaweed; Seaweed from the ocean, the best in all of Ireland"
> 
> I really like this song and first heard it (kinda) in "Song Of The Sea". I had a bit of a difficult time finding out what the song was after watching it, but I did end up figuring out what it was. Obviously, or else the song wouldn't have been used in the story. Fun Fact, I watched that movie shortly before watching Ross and Barry's playthrough of Undertale on Steam Train. 
> 
> Another Fun Fact, I only watched up to about Waterfall before getting the game myself, and my first run... A failed genocide. Yeah... I didn't met or even know about the requirements for that route and was stuck on a very bad neutral run. My logic was: I'm going to love these characters if I go about this peacefully, first I'm going to kill them all before I get attached and can't do it. And yeah. I can't do it now. I can't even bring myself to watch anyone on Youtube to do it either.
> 
>  
> 
> On a side note, does anyone have information on some site called Grammarly? I thought about using it but I've read good and bad things about it.


	19. Changing Of The Sentries

Lunch had come and passed, and both Frisk and yourself had gone back to playing your respected games. Only now, Frisk sat beside you playing on the light green DS while a casually dressed skeleton lounged on the sofa. Turns out the lazy skeleton had finished with his sentry duties out in the forest and was taking a 'well deserved' break before going to another one of his jobs. He mentioned that a job of his was close to Alphys' lab and that he could pick up your phone from her while Papyrus takes Frisk and you shopping. That is providing that Papyrus actually would want to go do that.

During your wait for the other skeleton brother to get home you make your third attempt at slaying the first boss of this PSone game. On your third time going through the stupid mausoleum Sans asked a lot of questions about the game and skeleton knight you control. You end up telling Sans a summery what you've learned so far about the game and plot. That summery being; the tall and armored skeleton that you play has been brought back to life and has made it his goal to defeat an evil sorcerer, save the kingdom, and prove what he couldn't in life and thus be deserving of his knightly status. Your summation earned you a small chuckle from Sans.

While trying to answer Sans as to what the enemies on screen were you go up the stairs to the next room and an imp in the room bumped into you, stealing your sword. An impromptu game of whack-an-imp breaks out and you use Sir Dan's arm to angrily hit the thieving cretins. As the number of imps in the room decline you tell Sans through gritted teeth that all the enemies thus far have either been undead or demonic. “Okay, I get get demonic,” Sans stated as your game of whack-an-imp continued, “But, what exactly do you mean by 'undead'? You called me that yesterday too, right?”

You blinked and ceased putting input into the game for a split second before pausing the game. You turn around and shoot Sans a very confused look. “I, um, yeah, I did,” you reply having recalled saying that to him just outside the Ruins. Does he really not know the concept of undead things? A Skeleton of all things. “You've never heard of undead things? Really?” you ask only for Sans to shake his head at you. “Um... wow... okay,” This is extremely weird, explaining the undead to a skeleton, but then again except for you and Frisk everyone here are monsters, right? So, maybe monster skeletons are different than undead skeletons? “Something that's undead is, um, it's normally the reanimated body of a human that has died. So Sir Dan there, he's technically undead.”

“Huh,” Sans huffed shifting the dots in his sockets from you to something behind you, you'd wager the TV. He didn't say anything else and you just shifted back to face the TV across the room. Unpausing the game you finish your game of whack-an-imp. Unfortunately the imp that took your sword got away with it leaving you without a weapon that doesn't take ammo or deteriorate with each use, save for Dan's arm but that's not very powerful.

Irritated yet undeterred by that setback you continue onward, even managing to collect a few more things than on your previous runs. You go to face the demon again, and third time being the charm you got a little over zealous as the demon died, startling the other two near you. Cheeks burning from embarrassment you apologized to them and quietly continue playing. Pushing your embarrassed feelings to the back of your mind you chose to replay levels in favor of new ones so that you can pick up overlooked things. Sans ended up helping you out at points, when he wasn't busy making jokes, by calling to question things in the environment you missed or making suggestions on things to do. With Sans' help you end up getting Sir Dan a fancy new war hammer.

Saving the game right after getting this new weapon that smashes like a club but won't break down, you head straight to a level you have already gone through twice with the sole purpose to test out this new weapon. As you had Sir Dan running around like a maniac smashing every zombie as he goes, you heard the front door start to open. You turn your head to the door at the sound, same as Frisk. Sans on the other hand leaned his head back more to look at the door up-side-down. A moment later a heroically dressed skeleton stepped into the house.

You smiled and greeted Papyrus along with Sans while Frisk waved hello. Papyrus returned the greeting with a bright smile on his face, “Hello brother and human friends, how is everyone?” Sans answered saying you all were fine, to which you and Frisk nod and hum in agreement with him. Papyrus shut the door behind himself before taking a few steps further inside and looking off somewhere else. Following his gaze you look back to the TV where Sir Dan was getting swarmed and hit by zombies you have yet to smash. Realizing the game had gone unpaused you swiftly press the start button to stop everything. “Was that a skeleton on the screen?” Papyrus inquired, “What are you guys watching?”

“Actually, it's a game on the original Play Station,” you clarify turning your gaze back to the tall skeleton in the entryway, “It's called MediEvil. And yeah, that was a skeleton, Sir Daniel Fortesque.”

“Wowie!” Papyrus chirped with wide bright eyes. In that instance you huffed out a small half laugh and end up with a crooked smile on your face; his excited burst was, for lack of better words, somewhat odd if not cute. Papyrus carried on speaking appearing not to notice your subtle reaction to his exclamation, “Humans even have skeletons in there games! Oh, by the way. Undyne said she would take your phone over to Dr. Alphys to look at it. She also entered the code for your phone and um...” he trailed off a bit and refused to make eye contact with you. His embarrassment or shyness over the matter confused you some, seeing as your crazy aunt forced you to do a complete wipe of your phone while under her roof. With a small laugh of mild perplexity you ask Papyrus what exactly he saw. “You're- you're not mad?” you shake your head no with a half smile and a look of relief spread across the skeleton's face, “Oh good, I was worried you might get mad that we looked through your phone.”

“So you _did_ look through my phone with Undyne,” you state causing Papyrus to stiffen. You're certain that if it were possible his bones would have paled when you said that. Lips curling into more of a smirk you chuckle, “You're fine. Not like there's anything on it anyway. I was forced to erase everything a couple of months ago.”

“Yes, well,” Papyrus coughed and glanced away from you. There was something... was that? You swear there is the faintest hint of color on his skull. You were unable to ponder that for very long because Papyrus continued, “Dr. Alphys should be able to fix your phone and I can get it back to you tomorrow.”

“Actually bro,” Sans cut in, “I need to take off for Hotland soon. I can drop by Alphy's lab and pick it up before I come home.” The laidback brother let out a yawn after making his offer. Papyrus was thrilled to hear Sans make such an offer, and you saw Sans' expression soften before he added, “Yeah, it's no problem. And uh, while I'm gone, these guys said they'd like to go shoppin' with ya if you wanna show them where the shop is.” Sans sat up as he finished his statement. With a yawn and stretch of nonexistent muscles the shorter skeleton added, “Kiddo here needs some new clothes.”

The taller brother still by the door shifted his gaze from Sans on the sofa to little Frisk next to the backpack at his feet. He blinked a few times at them to which the kid waved up at him once more. Papyrus blinked once more before a smile spread across his face, “Alrighty then! The tiny human Frisk and The Great Papyrus shall go to the store to purchase clothes and groceries!” Papyrus was about to step away from his spot in the entryway and closer to the dining table when you spoke up. You told him that you wanted to go to the store as well, leaving out the part about you having a problem with the brothers paying for everything. The heroic skeleton's happy expression faltered, giving way to a worrisome one. “Ah, but, Les human, doesn't it still hurt you to walk?”

“I'll be fine,” you reply without giving a real answer, “The snow actually sounds nice right now.” Papyrus made an unsure groaning sound and you give a small sigh, “I guess if you're that worried I can use a crutch or walking cane-thing if you can find me that.” Papyrus still was hesitant but at your suggestion of a walking aid he did cave in and agree to allow you to tag along. You smile triumphantly a tad and continue talking without thinking to filter anything for your company, “At least _I_ can still walk. When one of my cousins snapped his tibia and fibula clean in half-”

“I-in half!?” Papyrus squawked in horror. Oh yeah. You're talking to skeletons. Skeletons whose bodies are comprised solely of bones, and a skeleton hearing about a bone snapping in half might be like; and it was hanging by a bit of skin. “Are- are they okay now? How-”

“Dude! Dude! Calm down!” you shout to cut him off, raising a hand over your mouth to hide your blushing face and embarrassed smile. When you speak next you try to prevent your nervous laughs from becoming too noticeable in your voice, “It's fine. He's fine. Jared was like six years old when it happened and has gone on to play baseball, basketball, and soccer.” Your reassurance that your younger cousin had made a full recovery didn't seem to completely register with the skeleton brothers, or at least with Papyrus. Sans was behind you and out of your peripheral view when he sat up, making it impossible to see his reaction. Papyrus asked how a six year old could have possible lost a leg, and you shake your head. In a slight sigh you respond, “He still had both his legs, Papyrus. Broken bones aren't a super big deal for humans. Normally anyway. Just kept the limb straight, put it in a cast, then week or sometimes months later its good as new.”

“Oh-kay,” you hear Sans chime in behind you just before the couch creaked with movement, “I think I've heard enough horror stories today. I'm heading out now. Seeya guys later.” The couch creaked more as you hear Sans sliding off and get back to his sneaker clad feet left of your spot on the floor. He took careful steps around you to get to the front door, waving a farewell to everyone in the room before making his exit.

Once his brother left for... Hotland? That's what he said right? Well once Sans left Papyrus told you and Frisk that he just needed a minute or two before the rest of you could head out to the store. He quickly proceeded to run up the stairs and enter the door closest to the top of them, the one covered with caution tape and warning signs. Your gaze lingers at Papyrus' door for a second before going back to the TV still displaying a paused game. You can't exit a level without quitting the whole game, but you're just replaying a level and saved before starting it, so nothing really lost.

You nudge the child stretching next to you and ask them to put the controller back for you and turn off the console. Frisk puffed out their cheeks but did what you asked. As they walked over to the television you scoot back and push yourself up on the couch to wait for Papyrus. When Frisk returns to the couch you hold your right arm out open for them as they approach, wrapping them in half a hug when they get close enough. “Thank you, sweetpea,” you say wrapping your other arm around the ensnared giggling child, “Now can you go get out shoes?”

Moments after getting a huffy Frisk to fetch your shoes you heard the rattling of a door knob and sliding of wood against wood. You crane your neck up as much as you comfortably can to see Papyrus leave what you can only assume to be his bedroom while you are hunched over tying your shoes. The heroic skeleton exited the room with two peculiar things. The first one you noticed was a giant bone he carried in one hand, it looked like he stole the femur from a T. rex display in a museum. It was when Papyrus started descending the stairs that you noticed the second thing, it was a dark blue purse he wore across his body.

Papyrus quickly got the the ground floor and you turned your attention back to your feet to finish tying your shoes. After sitting back up he smiled and held out the bone you presume originally belonged to a dinosaur. Now seeing it close up you see that it was two bones, the very long thin one making up most of it's height and a smaller one on top intersecting to make them resemble the letter T. The bone crutch had absolutely no padding whatsoever for the crook of your arm. But it should be a short trip, right? You'll be fine. You smile back to Papyrus and thank him for the crutch made of bone, an item that in practically any other context would get you to run for the hills, sprained ankle be damned.

Now that everyone had shoes on there feet and could walk, Papyrus ushered you and Frisk out helping you in particular climb down the front steps. You tried to tell him you didn't need this much help, but Papyrus refused to stand by as you hobbled down the steps. Barely stepping on the snowy ground you hear Frisk make a burr like noise at the cold air. Once you got well enough footing in the snow you shimmy out of your hoodie and hand it out to Frisk. As they wrapped themselves up in the warmth still lingering in the fabric Papyrus climbed the steps to close the front door before leading you guys into town. On your party's trip into town, you try not to let the cold air gently blowing over your arms bug you too much. The cold may not bug you as much as others, but that doesn't mean you're immune to the cold, and you make a mental note to get Frisk a jacket of their own while shopping for them.

During your slow trek into town you kept your eyes low and to the side. The fact that you were walking with a crutch was sure to catch the curiosity of a few of the fuzzy animal looking monsters of the town. You looked up once to take a quick survey of the streets, if they can really be called that, and find only a few other townsfolk out. They looked to be going about their own business rather than have their gaze dwell on you. Most of them were a short ways away though, far enough you'd have to speak somewhat loudly to be understood. There was only one townsperson, a red feathered bird in a light yellow tank and orange shorts, that was coming up your group's way and they stopped to ask if you were alright.

“Hey you were at Grillby's yesterday with Sans, right?” the bird asked before quickly adding, “What happened to ya?” You shrink back and laugh a little nervously before telling the neighborly bird that you had tripped and hurt your foot. The corners of their beak fell into a frown of sorts, “Sorry to hear that.” You shrug and tell them it's no big deal, because in truth it wasn't. A small hand slipping into your free right one managed to get your lips to form a smile. You'll be fine, no one here knows you're a human. They're just a little concerned. Plus, Papyrus would protect you and Frisk.

“Yes, she and little Frisk here are staying with my brother and I while she's healing,” Papyrus noted to the bird. Your smile stretches to a crooked one and your feelings of unease and shyness begin to fade away. Shifting to stand more upright again you add that your foot is doing a lot better than it was last night.

“That's good to hear,” the bird monster said with a smile, “You two looking to move here or are ya just visiting?” The sudden question of your permanency here shocked you a little hearing it asked by a stranger. It felt almost out of the blue when in reality it seemed like a pretty normal thing to ask someone new to town. You shrug once more and try not to mumble your words too much when you tell them that you and Frisk are just visiting. “Oh, well I know our small town doesn't have much to offer but I hope you enjoy your stay. Oh! And also, you guys should go see Altex, she's bound to have some medical ointments and remedies in stock that'll heal your foot in a jiffy.”

“Altex?” Papyrus repeated the name, “she's the bunny whose shop is attached to the inn, correct?” The red feathered bird villager nodded their head in response to Papyrus question. The bird went on to say that the innkeeper, Tokki, is sisters with Altex. Such strange names these monsters have. “My friends and I were just on our way to the shop, actually. Thank you for mentioning that, I'll be sure to pick some up for Les here.”

The red bird smiled and gave a wave to your group. They said it was nice speaking with you, wished you well, and told you their name and where to look for them. That name being Bartolo and you can find them at Grillby's a lot. You and Papyrus returned the niceties and bid them a farewell while Frisk simple waved. Your skeleton guide resumed his task after that and led you and Frisk further down the snowy road.

A few paces farther down the road Papyrus spoke up. “Les, I must ask you something,” he said glancing over his shoulder and turning some to better see you. Papyrus spoke in a quieter tone than normal, tipping you off that he wanted this conversation to be relatively private. “While I, The Great Papyrus, pride myself on being as polite and non-intrusive as possible, I can't help but wonder... Um, how long exactly do you plan- No... How long would you like to stay with Sans and I? Because you can stay as long as you like!”

Papyrus looked back with a sad, almost pleading smile after asking his question. You attempt to smile back only to promptly break eye contact with him and bite your lip as anxiety started knotting in your gut. It was more than apparent to you that Papyrus wants you and Frisk to stay with him and Sans for a while. That's what Toriel wanted too, for you both to stay with her. But should you really stay with the brothers once you can walk properly again? The idea of staying here for a week or two while things blow over on the surface did cross your mind earlier, buy is it really a good idea? Stay here and waiting things out would mean that your family, your loved ones, they would be told by police that you were missing and presumed dead. You weren't the only one to lose your mother. Your grandparents lost their daughter, your uncles lost their sister, and your cousins lost their aunt. Can you really sit down here in hiding while your family believes they lost you too?

“I don't know, Papyrus,” you quietly answer still not managing to make eye contact, “I... we... I have places to go. Frisk and I need to get back to the surface as soon as we can. There's people... family waiting for us.” You didn't get a good look at Papyrus, not even out of your peripheral, before he turned back to face forward. You felt your right hand being squeezed, alongside a grip on your heart. You glance sidelong over to your sibling to see them wearing a somber face with eyes downcast to the ground in front of them. Both Frisk and Papyrus were obviously upset that you had to leave. “I'm sorry,” you softly tell them, “I can't put my family through that again. Not if I have a choice.”

Papyrus slowed to a stop, standing still for a half second before turning completely around to face you and Frisk. You glance up to look him in the eye sockets while he spoke, only to get thrown off a bit by the expression he wore. His lipless smile bright on his face as he stood strong and tall, his cape-like scarf even catching a breeze to heighten the superheroic pose the skeleton struck. “Fear not dear friends, I, The Great Papyrus, shall see to it that you and Frisk make it back to your family.”

You feel excess water around the edges of your eyes as the corners of your mouth twist upward. You lean more onto your crutch to keep it steady while you let go and hold your left hand out some. You reach out and gently take a hold of one of Papyrus' gloved hands, softly squeezing his metacarpals and phalanges underneath the thick fabric. “Thanks Papyrus. You really are great. The best even.” You squeeze his hand a little harder before loosening your grip and sliding your hand out from his.

“W-well, uh-of course!” Papyrus shouted in response after you got your hold back on the crutch made of bone. His expression was brighter than ever thanks to your complement. “I'm not called, The Great Papyrus, for nothing! Mostly because The Best Papyrus, sounds a little odd.” His features shifted to a dull seriousness towards the end his statement and you bite your lip to hold back chuckling. He'd be odd no matter what he went by, but that was a quality you liked in your new skeleton friend. With a smile you take a half step forward nudging Papyrus on with a motion of your head, telling him that you and Frisk are losing body heat standing around in the snow like this. “Oh! Yes, of course! Onward friends, to the store! Nyeh heh heh!” what a goofball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's chapters for today and next week, but I have nothing typed after that. There's also the fact that I'm going out of town for around 10 days to go to a cousin's wedding and visit with family. So there won't be chapters for a week or two. ~~Maybe longer if it's anything like last hiatus.~~
> 
> I did have an idea though, I've been reading some Soulmate Au stories/one-shots for Undertale and I thought about writing a few of my own. I have a few prompts and scenarios in mind, I thought about writing those and posting them alternating with story chapters. Something else about that side-project is that I would be open to taking suggestions. That sound like something that some of you might be interested in reading?


	20. Wooly Toad Stew For The Soul

“Come on, Papyrus, please!” you groan in frustration as you allow yourself to fall backwards, plopping onto lumpy yet soft deep green cushions. The skeleton in question shook his head at you denying your plead. That only further escalated your whining and complaining. “Come on, seriously! All that was like, what? Four-hundred fifty-something dollars, -er gold, -er whatever.” You gently toss your crutch aside where it bounced on the couch cushions once before falling to the carpet in a muffled thud. Meanwhile Papyrus set the bags hanging from his arms down on the table. As he did Papyrus spoke up, correcting you saying the total was was four-hundred ninety-four gold coins. “That's a lot! Or at least it sounds like a lot... Come on, groceries can be expensive. I should pay you back some way!”

“Well,” Papyrus said in a hum of thought. He had his back to you while he dug through one of the nylon looking reusable bags on the table with Frisk right beside him bouncing on the balls of their feet. A moment later Papyrus withdrew a paper bag containing a sweet bread treat baked in cinnamon and shaped to look like a bunny. Handing it off to the eager child at his side he made another hum in thought before saying, “I suppose you could pay me back by staying put the rest of the day and perhaps walking me through cooking that dish you told me of earlier.”

“You mean Irish Stew?” You ask the heroically dressed skeleton who now was taking out children's clothing and folding them neatly onto the table. Papyrus confirmed your suspicion with a third hum. “I didn't see some of the ingredients at the store we would need to properly make that. I mean, we can make some other kind of stew, it just wouldn't be Irish Stew.”

“Alrighty!” Papyrus cheered swirling around holding two brightly colored reusable bags covered in a myriad of colorful and funky patches and stitchwork, both still filled with groceries, “I'll just put away all these and when it gets closer to dinner time you can instruct me on how to prepare this particular dish.” Your eyes move away from the skeleton and to the clock on the wall. The time was a quarter after two. Raising a brow as stepped towards the kitchen and you ask what time he wanted dinner to be ready. Papyrus paused for a second before looking over his shoulder and answering, “Around five or six.”

“Then we should start cooking it in an hour if not sooner,” you reply. As he continued on his way into the kitchen Papyrus asked if you were sure about your time frame. There were a multiple soft thuds in short succession of each other, but once they ended he voiced his concern that starting to make it now felt rather early. In response you said, “Stew takes a few hours to cook, or longer. You might want to start it now just to get it out of the way.”

All noise from the kitchen halted for a moment, not even the echo of Papyrus' boots on the linoleum floor could be heard. Papyrus broke the silence a second later when he poked his skull out into the living room, a tomato in one hand. “Would you like to help me now, then?” he asked with bright eyes and a pleading smile. Swiftly rolling your eyes with a half smile tugging at your lips, you sigh and agree to help him. You were already going to help him, he didn't need to ask you with puppy eye... sockets. His skeletal features grew brighter before replying, “I'll just put the groceries away and then we can get started.”

The happy monster withdrew back into the kitchen where you heard the rustling of fabrics against each other followed by taps and occasional squeaks of not completely dry boots on the kitchen floor. Among the noises coming from the next room, you begin to hear chirpy sounds to your left before an equally chirpy version of an opening theme song started. You look over to Frisk and find them munching on their cinnamon bunny treat with both hands on your Ds and big brown eyes focused on the game. You smile and glance away from the child enthralled by the cutesy rodent infested video game, shifting your gaze over to the dining table once more. Well, you're definitely not going to be standing through this whole cooking lesson, so you carefully get back to your feet. You left the crutch on the floor as you walk over to the table, not wanting to rely on it while indoors. You grab the back of one of the chairs and slowly shuffle into the kitchen with the chair in tow. Just as you crossed the threshold a whining hit your eardrums, “Human!” You jerk your over to the source of the sound and see a frowning skeleton clutching the fabric of empty bags in hand. Papyrus when on to groan, “I was going to assist you with this.”

You shrug at him with a smile and limp further into the kitchen carrying the chair. You veered to the right after crossing the boundary of the two rooms, planning on setting the chair against the empty wall, but there was a light grasp over your hand toting the chair. You turn your head to the left and see Papyrus giving you a small smile as you feel the fabric of his glove quickly slide off your hand to grab the back of the chair instead. “Over here,” he said turning to look over and point to the short somewhat hidden hallway off the kitchen, “That way you're not so far away!”

Letting go of the chair allowed Papyrus to take it over to the back wall left of the tall cabinet and facing the small counter space along the left wall. As he walked over to the edge of the counter you took a quick glance around the room. You've passed through the kitchen several times already but you've yet to really take note of the room. It was odd, like practically everything else here in the Underground. There wasn't much in the kitchen; an oven tucked away in the corner by the entrance, next to the only countertop it the room that stretched from the oven to where the wall opened for the hallway. A fridge stood in the corner diagonal from the oven, and a lone narrow cabinet sat left of the fridge with an odd gap between them. There wasn't even a kitchen sink!

You survey the room a second time, making sure you didn't somehow miss the sink. You heard the legs of the chair slide on the linoleum seconds before Papyrus asked what you seemed to be looking for, to which you promptly answer with the sink. “Oh!” the skeleton said with a smile growing on his face. He gestured to the top of cabinet near him and continued, “I increased the height of the sink so I could fit more bones under it!” His answer only brought more confusion. Your eyes follow up to where he gestured and you look over the cabinet once more, only this time you trail your gaze upward towards the top of it. It stood a little taller than the fridge and you could see shining metal poking out from the top.

“W-what the hell?” you snicker with a crooked smile, not completely realizing the words slipped passed your lips until Papyrus scolded you for your language. “Sorry, that's just...” you trail off with your apology. Strange? Bizarre? Abnormal? All those seemed like adequate words to describe what you were looking at; but this is the first kitchen of a monster you've ever been in, is it really abnormal or are you just experiencing culture shock? “N-nevermind,” you say still trying to laugh off the odd discovery, “Forget I said anything.”

“Alrighty...” Papyrus said, dragging out the word in a perplexed tone. You shift your gaze from the tall counter with the sink to the skeleton by the stray chair. A bright smile appeared back on his features and he took a step closer to your spot in the middle of the kitchen. When he got close enough Papyrus outstretched a hand to help guide you to the chair. “Here, you can sit over here and-” You move to take a step closer and redistribute your weight wrong, sending a jolt of pain shooting from your left foot up your spine. You curl your lips in and make loud erratic laughing hums and whines in an effort to stop yourself from cursing up a storm. Papyrus caught on to your discomfort and pain almost as instantly as the pain itself. Over your stifled cries of mild hysterics caused by unexpected pain Papyrus grew panicked, shouting, “Hu-human! Oh no! Oh no!! Are you alright!?!”

You nod sucking in a breath through bared and grit teeth. The sudden jolt of pain had passed leaving you with a dull ache. You get your breathing back under control so that you can tell Papyrus that you'll be fine when you heard something move in the next room and rapidly approach. When the movement stopped in its tracks there came a small peep of a voice, “Lessy?” You twist back around, keeping everything below your waist as stiff as possible. You see Frisk standing in the entryway, cinnamon and icing around their mouth and Ds in one hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mention to them with a small smile before realigning yourself. Using greater precision while moving you take careful steps towards the chair Papyrus set by the counter. “Just stepped on my foot wrong. I'll be fine.” You only got to take one step before Papyrus stepped forward and quite literally swept you off your feet. You yelped in surprise, shouting, “What are you doing!?” to the skeleton as he turned around to face the direction you were heading.

“Helping you get to the chair,” he responded simply while you heard giggling coming from Frisk, “Part of how you could pay me back was by staying put for the rest of the day. So here.” He then lowered you to your seat by the counter. Standing back up and smiling brightly he continued, “You stay there and I, The Great Papyrus, shall follow all of your directions on how to prepare this new dish. Then when that's done, I'll carry you back to the living room.” You wanted to whine and gripe that you can still walk and don't need to be carried around like a baby, but what's the point? Papyrus is probably going to do it regardless. You could have probably stubbed your toe and you'd be in the same spot you are now. Better to just accept this fate of being carried around for the rest of the day. At least Frisk was getting a kick out of it.

Getting comfortable, you begin to list off the various ingredients for Papyrus to set out for the stew, along with asking him to get out a pot to cook it all in. As he fetched the item you asked for he grabbed and put on his frilly pastel pink apron from the storage-slash-pantry room next to the bathroom. Frisk meanwhile retreated back into the living room attention back on their game. Most of what you asked for made it to the counter; potatoes, onions, carrots, celery, salt and pepper, vegetable oil, flour, all that was easy. The trouble came when you asked for a protein. You asked for beef, Papyrus didn't know what that was. You asked for pork, Papyrus never heard of that one either. Chicken? No. Venison? Nope. When you ran out of things to list off you heave a heavy sigh, “Okay, then what was in that burger? That was no veggie burger, what the heck _do_ you guys use for meat?!”

“Well, I believe Grillby uses ground salamanga for his burgers,” Papyrus stated simply as he walked towards the fridge. “That's what Sans told me anyway. I, on the other hand, prefer wooly toad or spinner bug.” The fridge door opened and Papyrus leaned down to retrieve something hidden by the door. The door also blocked Papyrus from seeing the wide-eyed blank look plastered on your face. Salamagna? Wooly toad? Spinner bug? What even are those!? Regaining some of your control you clear your throat to ask, in as calm and level of a voice as you can manage, what those things are exactly. “You've never heard of them?” Papyrus asked standing back up with something wrapped in brown paper in hand, “I guess on the surface you have all those other things you asked about... Anyway! Wooly toads and spinner bugs are some of the livestock we have close to Snowdin. Well, wooly toads at least, spinner bugs like to live in Waterfall.”

He walked back to the counter, setting whatever he took from the fridge down on the counter with the other ingredients. You decide against inquiring further, instead opting to give Papyrus the next step, “Okay, now pour a little bit of vegetable oil into the pot and turn the burner to a medium-low heat.” You were going to give the next part of the instruction when Papyrus interrupted asking about turning the burn on high. You blinked once at him before recovering, “No, we want to warm the oil, not burn it to the bottom. And while that's getting ready, pour some flour into a bowl and cut the... uh... whatever meat that is, down into chunks.”

“It's wooly toad,” Papyrus answered smiling. He reached for the dial on the oven and you notice Papyrus still had his gloves on. When a purple flame came to life under the pot you stared at that new development for a second before getting back on track and ask for Papyrus to take his gloves off and wash his hands before continuing any further. This, unsurprisingly, confused Papyrus. “I've always have had my gloves on while cooking... and Undyne never said anything about taking them off during lessons. Is this just another thing human chefs do on the surface?”

“Yeah, kinda,” you say with a small sigh and lean back crossing your arms, “a new pair of disposable rubber gloves would be okay, but not work gloves. You can get dirt and grime into the food, and that get you sick, or at least it can get Frisk and I sick.” Papyrus froze at your words, his bony brows knitting in worry. To stop him from getting way more panicked than he needed to be you blurt out, “It's okay, though! Just, um... Frisk and I are perfectly fine, and normally in families it's not always super bad to forget to do some things. I just, my yaya -er, my grandma owns a restaurant and you got to have high standards, ya know?”

That seemed to keep him from completely freaking out over that and the two meals he's served you and Frisk thus far. Papyrus still looked worried however, he brought his jaw back a bit so his upper teeth were in front. You thought it looked kinda like he was trying to bite his lip and can't do to them not existing. You smile to him and reassure him that he has nothing to worry about and that he should just go wash his hand real quick before you go on. Papyrus gave a swift nod before skirting around your seat to get to the bathroom. Water began running a few moments later, the splashing sounds mixing with the low hiss from the stove before shortly stopping.

Papyrus came back into the kitchen, no longer wearing large red gloves. The black discoloration of his arms ended at his wrists leading you to believe that it was just some kind of base layer clothes he wore under his outfit. When he stood back at the counter with an uneasy smile on his face, you smile back softly and tell him where to go from there. He got some flour ready in a bowl and unwrapped the wooly toad, whatever that really was. You instruct Papyrus to get the meat down into roughly one inch chunks. You thought the command was simple and would prompt Papyrus into fetching a kitchen knife. Instead he picked up the large cut of meat and pulled it apart with his bare hands. “What the shit are you doing!?” you screech as the main component of the stew gets torn in two.

“Les!” Papyrus calls out in a scolding tone, “Goodness, there's no need to curse. And I am doing what you said, I am getting the wooly toad into chunks.” You stare awestruck at the skeleton as all thought in your brain crashes and goes through a reboot. When you can string thoughts coherently again to form sentences you ask Papyrus why he wasn't using a knife. “Oh, is that how humans prepare ingredients? Undyne always told me to attack the ingredients.”

You're at a loss for words. How on Earth did he get it in his head that massacring the ingredients was a good idea!? Wait, he said Undyne told him? The royal guard captain? Culinary arts and martial arts are two different things! You pinch the bridge of your nose and heave out a heavy sigh. Regaining some of your composer you inform Papyrus that he should really just get a cutting board and knife for this. He tilted his head ever so slightly and asked why that was to which you answer, “You'll want all this cut as uniformly as you can. Uniform cuts mean it will be easier to cook through evenly and have consistency throughout the meal rather than, too big of chunks in one bite and too small in the next.”

“Wowie, human! Is that true?” he asked with wide sockets. You nodded to him and his skeletal face grew brighter. “Neato! Okay, I'll prepare this the human way than.” Papyrus when to grab the drawer in the counter in front of himself when you stopped him again, not swearing this time. He looked over to you with knitted brows again and asked, “What is it, Les?”

“Your hands. You just touched raw meat,” you answered, “If you touch the drawer and anything inside it, that kinda contaminates it, though the drawer is probably easier to clean than everything inside it. Anyway, raw meat can get us sick, so it's best to not touch a bunch of things when your handling it. And wash your hands after. But here.” You scooch forward with your chair and get closer. You gesture for Papyrus to take a step back and when he does you open the drawer for him. Stretching as tall as you can to peer into it the only knives you see in the drawer of silverware are some steak knives, aside from some butter knifes but those are always ridiculously dull. You reach in and pull out a steak knife and set it in the counter for the skeleton before scooting back to your original spot. “There, now you can cut, just gotta clean off the countertop after.”

Papyrus was silent for a short moment, expression still looking worrisome, but he offers you half a smile and steps back closer to the counter and carries out your instruction. He was a few cuts into one of the torn halves when he spoke up, “Humans seem so frail... Or at least... um... nevermind,” he mumbled quietly. You huff out a dry laugh and ask if he was going to say that you in particular seemed frail. He shot up straight when you asked that, denying it completely with what looked to be the faint traces of some warm color appearing across his face as he waved his hands in front of himself as if to mime an invisible wall between you two. You laugh a little louder and tell him you kind of agree with him on the human frailty notion, your frailty especially.

“Yeah, we're a little funny like that,” you muse, “The human body can be ridiculously frail but also incredibly strong. Though I haven't been the most healthy lately making me be more on the frail side of that.” Your statement turned Papyrus' embarrassed panic into a much quieter puzzlement. His shoulders relaxed and he lowered his hands he had waving defensively. He asked how that second part could be true. Your lips pull up just barely into a smile for a split second before you answer. “There are hundreds of things that can go wrong; accidents injuring vital organs, or disease that will do harm to them, getting lousy genetics that cause more prone to bad things,” you tell him, “But at the same time, the human body is amazing and resilient. Trillions of cells coming together to form tissues, organs, systems, all coming together to make up the body. Something that can go nearly a month without food, but only a week tops without water. We can lose sixty percent of a liver, and not only will it still function, it can grow back! And on top of all that there's willpower.”

“I remember a cop visiting my class once back in elementary school. He told us about these two men he knew. The first one had gotten shot in the leg, a wound that could have been easily treated and the man would have been absolutely fine. But he panicked, me made himself believe he was dying, and ended up bleeding to death.” You cast your eyes to the ingredients that have yet to be prepared as you tell the skeleton the cop's story. It seemed hard all of a sudden to make direct eye contact with him. You see in the corner of your eye Papyrus had mostly turned back to the counter and slowly worked on cutting the rest of the wooly toad, but you could tell he was still paying close attention.“Then there was the other man. The officer said that man got shot in the heart. A very vital organ that pumps blood in human bodies. That man was bleeding out, he was dying, but he refused. That man refused to die, he fought to cling to life, fought to stay conscious and calm during his ordeal, and he survived.” You huff out another dry laugh and keep your eyes focused away from the skeleton in the room, “But that's all going more into psychology than anatomy. Anyway, when you're done cutting all that, roll them in the bowl of flour before you throw it in the pot so it can begin to brown. And while they're cooking a bit you should wash your hands again and wipe down the counter. Also put that knife in the sink or something to get washed too.”

Papyrus was silent for a moment, hands frozen in place and prepared to make one of the last few cuts needed to make the last of the uniform chunks. He found his voice a few moments before he began to more again. “W-wowie...” he uttered in shock, “I mean, I knew humans were tremendously stronger than monsters, but to just be able to refuse to die... ”

“It's a little more complicated than that, and there's only so much you can do. Sometimes despite trying to cling to life, the person still dies. Sometimes the person can completely give up and will themselves to death as well,” you clarify, “And it's not always life or death. Sometimes it's as simple as the common cold.” You try to look back to Papyrus and smile, but it doesn't stay on your face long. “And what do you mean that humans are 'tremendously stronger' than monsters? You picked me up like I weighed nothing. I couldn't pick up someone my size like that, heck I doubt I can carry Frisk like that for long. Not to mention that fight yesterday, the only reason that ended in a draw of sorts rather than you beating us was I threw a snowball. For a guy without muscles, you're pretty freaking strong.”

Papyrus coughed a little and glanced away to the pot sitting over a purple blaze. Picking up the wooly toad chunks, Papyrus plopped a few at a time in the bowl of flour before he dropped them into the heated pot which hissed out when the meat hit the oil. While repeating this process a few times he responded to you, some of his boastful tone coming back to his voice, “Yes, well, thank you, Les. Ever since I began training with Undyne I've gotten a lot stronger, but that's not quite what I mean.” You hum to him in a questioning manner and in his answer Papyrus loses his boastful tone again, “Human's have much stronger souls than monsters. I'm fairly certain they said when I was in school, that it would take soul of nearly every monster to equal the power of one human soul.” 

You sit in your chair, soundless and wide-eyed, while processing Papyrus' answer. Every monster? Every monster and it would only equal one human? That's... that's insane. Through your struggle to comprehend what he said you notice the skeletal chef take a half step away from the oven once all the floured chunks were sizzling in the oil. He then turned to walk back into the bathroom. Before walking away though, he offered you small smile. “That's a really good thing for you and Frisk,” he chirped with some cheer coming back. He maneuvered around you to get to the bathroom sink, and once in front of the open bathroom door he shifted to partially face you before he continued, smile still bright, “That means when you two get to the barrier in the capital you both will be able to pass right through it with your powerful souls instead of being trapped down here like us.”

You felt your heart snap in two. Your want to get back to your family, to let them know you're alright, to be in a safe home with them; it all felt so selfish of you to want that now. To just go and leave everyone down here while you what? Go about your normal life? Pretend none of this ever happened out of fear that you'd be called crazy. You selfish jerk. How could you even think to do that? Abandon an entire race of people lost to time. That's just horrible. You're horrible.

You tilt your head downward to hide your sorrowfully face on the verge of tears from Papyrus whenever he might come back into the kitchen. They are trapped down here. Trapped! And you're only now getting it through your thick head? If you and Frisk leave, they'll still all be trapped and forgotten. No wonder there are monsters that want you captured, maybe even dead. What hope do you really have of getting to that barrier anyway? Maybe your aunt was right. Maybe you really are just a hopeless idiot. 

.

.

.

...No.

No. That woman was wrong. This isn't who you really are.

You close your eyes and take in a deep steadying breath. You aren't horrible. You aren't hopeless. And you aren't going to simply leave this place and forget about it.

Running water from the bathroom halted and tapping footstep drew closer. Papyrus came back into the kitchen and asked if you were okay. You take another deep breath and answer him with the last of the air exiting your lungs, “Yeah. Just thinking.” Your voice must have sounded a little hollow if not hoarse from the sting in the back of your throat. Leveling your breath and looking up to the vegetable again you muster up your confidence to ask, “Is... there a way...” you tail off losing your voice. You shake your head slightly and take in a sharp breath, “Is there a way to break the barrier?”

You would have thought time had frozen if not for the sizzling coming from the pot. Papyrus was leaning ever so slightly over the counter with a rag in hand, paused in the middle of wiping down the counter, then he spoke. His voice was thoughtful, and surprisingly not entirely lacking his characteristic optimism tone, “I believe so, yes.” You shift your eyes from the still produce to the skeleton focused on cleaning. “The king wants to open the barrier with soul power. That's why he wants to acquire a human.”

Because your soul is so much stronger than monster souls. The barrier can be broken. All the trapped monsters down here, there's a way they can all go free. Then... you can't go just yet. You won't just turn your back to them when they've been so nice to you and Frisk. Your heart ached again as you dwelt on those thoughts, but this time it was not a sorrowful ache in your chest. There was something fierce. Something burning and motivating. But... you could also feel something else. Something stronger, bright and shining. You want to help.

“Papyrus,” you spoke up, “I think... maybe instead of leaving when my ankle heals up... maybe Frisk and I could stay a bit longer? If that's alright with you guys, anyway.”

The skeleton was absolutely beaming. He said that was more than alright. Your lips pull into a small smile and you thank him. “No worries at all, dear friend!” he cheered, “Oh! This is so exciting!” He stood upright, away from the now clean counter and began to ramble about your longer stay. He mentioned guiding you more around town, showing you the library was and where the, River Person? could be found. You're not so sure about the River Person, but the library sounded interesting. What kind of books do monsters even have? Maybe you can find something useful. Before Papyrus got too far off the rails with his ramblings you rein in the conversation and get him back on track with the next directions, making a mental note to visit the library in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know, I put Les through a lot of crap. I actually do this in pretty much all my stories. The reader/main character always, ALWAYS, has had a crappy or somewhat crappy life. Or they get hurt. Or both! Man, I'm mean.
> 
> Anyway, in a few days I'll be flying down to visit family. I have the next chapter mostly written but not at all typed, and I only have the start of one of the one-shots written. Also if you'd like to contact me to make suggestions for the one-shots, since this site has yet to instate an private message system yet, my email unrenownedNPC@gmail.com. It is also listed on my profile here.


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